Resort to Stratagem
by Col. Hammer
Summary: Master Potter Commands. We act! Starts between Harry’s 4th & 5th years. Harry faces the crucible of Privet Dr. only to return to the wizarding world as its Champion. Slight Warhammer 40K crossover.
1. Chapter 1

RESORT TO STRATEGEM

For those of you that get lost or can't picture what I am referring to please see the author's notes at the end of the chapter.

See end of chapter for legals.

Starts between Harry's 4th & 5th years. Harry faces the crucible of Privet Dr. only to return to the wizarding world as its Champion.

Soundtrack Theme #1

Band: Manowar

Title: The March

Album: Warriors of the World

Day 1: Back in Dudley's Extra Bedroom.

'I have become… comfortably numb', Harry thought to himself. He was so physically exhausted after a hard day of doing the 1001 Chores that seem to accrue around his aunt and uncle's home whenever he would go to attend Hogwarts every year. Despite the poor working conditions and being locked up when finished without the benefit of being able to clean up Harry didn't mind the work. His labors eased his mind while making his mind tired enough that when he went to sleep and had his seemingly inevitable nightmares concerning Voldemort they would not cause him to awaken or cry out (much). If he did awake from his dreams his body seemed to have no trouble going back to sleep.

'Perhaps this is Dumbledor's idea of therapy', Harry mused to himself.

Harry's return to existence at Privet Drive following the Tri-Wizard Cup was really anti-climactic. Aside from giving the Weasley Twins his winnings from the Tournament and promising to write his friends this summer on the ride home nothing much had happened to connect him to the Wizarding world.

'Nobody has written me yet but considering we all have only been home a day and I doubt my friends miss me as much as I miss them I guess this is only to be expected. What's bothering me is that I haven't even gotten my daily copy of the 'Prophet'! I did pay for that. "I wonder what the problem is?'

Unfortunately for Harry his momentary burst of anger had energized his mind guaranteeing that he would be unable to simply drift off into sleep. Feeling his stomach rumble at its emptiness Harry turn over to look at the 'meal' that had been delivered through the doggy-door his uncle had installed in his door.

'Stale cheese sandwich. My favorite.' Harry sighed, but his stomach would not be denied and he inhaled it. He savored the cool glass of water; however, as he noticed that he was severely dehydrated and needed to keep the food and water down if he was going to survive the summer.

Saving half his water ration for later that night Harry studied his cousin's room. Once again new stacks of toys rested haphazardly around the room. While not seeming to completely cover the floor like it had the years before the mess would still make living and studying in the room difficult.

As he was too tired to attempt his school work Harry didn't much mind the mess, but figured he still had it in him to arrange it so that he would have some space to move around the room. Locating a box to put the broken items in was his first order of business and once that was done Harry began the sorting.

Toss. "Crash!"

Fling. "Shatter!"

Heave. "Whap!"

'Whap?' Harry asked himself. He hadn't really paid attention to the last object as it have been black and the room was dark though it felt like it had been heavy and smooth.

Peering into the box through the dim light Harry saw ' ... is that a book?'.

Harry knew that there were some books that had been bought for Dudley over the years, but the numbers had tapered off as it became obvious to even his own family that Dudley just wasn't interested in the written word.

Now, however, Harry noticed that the rest of the stack he was about to go through consisted of either books or colorfully printed cardboard boxes. Neither of these items could Harry see Dudley using, as the last time he had touched a puzzle in primary school Dudley had used a pair of scissors on the top of the puzzle box to make it actually look like he had completed it.

With his interest piqued Harry grabbed the pile and moved it on top of Dudley's second bed so he could get a better look. On top of the pile was a box labeled "BATTLE FOR MACCRAGE" showing an picture of several men in over sized blue armor wielding huge guns and swords with chainsaw-like blades in an attempt to fend off a hoard of multi-limbed and clawed reddish-purple creatures.

"Hmmm, looks like Dudley opened this box intending to break whatever was inside, only to discover it comes packaged pre-broken!"

Setting the now-opened box aside Harry turned back to the book he had grabbed earlier. The hard bound book had at the top of the cover a stylized double-headed eagle acclaimed the name of the game 'Warhammer 40,000'. Below this was a large hammer with it's haft covered by a metal plated skull with the roman numeral 'IV' indicated that this was the fourth edition of the games rule set.

Opening the book to the first page Harry was treated to a black and white picture of a starry night with many lines of Gothic-type script which he read aloud.

"_For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the golden throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed each day, for whom blood is drunk and flesh eaten. Human blood and human flesh – the stuff of which the Imperium is made._

_To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. This is the tale of those times. It is a universe you can live in today – if you dare - for this is a dark and terrible era where you will find little comfort or hope. If you want to take part in the adventure then prepare yourself now. Forget the power of technology, science, and common humanity. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods._

_But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be miss__ed..."_

"Wow, what a happy place the future is! Someone should share this with Voldemort. Maybe he'll change his mind about wanting to be immortal!", exclaimed Harry.

Horrified by what he was reading and yet strangely intrigued by the dark imagery of the book as it matched his own mood Harry chose to read further. The book was a more detailed version of the written instructions found in the box he had lying open, detailing how the game would progress with each player's infantry squads alternately moving, shooting, and fighting each other in had to hand combat before either retreating or advancing on their defeated enemy. The rules for players to do the same things using their army's tanks, futuristic hovercraft, and / or bi-pedal walkers were included.

Interspersed with the various rules and at the bottom of every page were quotations from the fictional great leaders of the Imperium of Man.

'_The only reaction to treachery is vengeance._' Harry read to himself. Immediately an image of Wormtail escaping from justice only to later kill Cedric came to mind. Irritated, Harry flipped to the next page's quote, which read '_Compromise is akin to Treachery._' This gave Harry pause as it brought to mind Minister Fudge and his dealings with those men that Harry knew were not only blood purists but Death Eaters.

_"Know your Duty"_, Harry read aloud.

'But what is my duty?', Harry asked himself.

_"True Happiness stems only from Duty"._

'But what is my duty?'

_"If a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's Table"_

" I guess that means they go to heaven."

Harry's mother had died to save him, and that death had fueled the blood wards that even now protected him. His father had been killed by Voldemort trying to buy him and his mother time to escape while Cedric had suffered a similar fate at the hands of Wormtail. Harry's belief that these people now lived in whatever form of heaven existed on the other side of death was not in doubt.

"But how do you win if dying in battle is your duty?"

_'The reward for treachery is retribution'_

"So that is my duty! If I defeat those enemies who have betrayed the magical world then I have achieved my duty, and if I fall in the attempt then so be it."

_'What is the terror of Death? That we die our work incomplete. What is the joy of life? To die knowing our task is done.'_

"Okay, so no dieing until I defeat Voldemort. That's nice. Now I just need you to tell me how I can do it!"

_'Look to your wargear'_

"What?", Harry asked the book. Harry pondered what items he had that could be loosely termed 'wargear' and realized that in his muggle-raised mind a wand was just not up to matching the term. A wand might make him powerful and Voldemort could cast the Killing Curse, but wands were not purpose-built for war. Most people used them for such mundane things as levitating a heavy object or turning a matchstick into a needle.

Now the Sword of Gryffindor, on the other hand…

_'Blessed are the gunmakers._'

Harry had never been to a church in his life as his 'family' could be considered Anglican chiefly in the fact that that was the church they were currently not attending, but even he was sure that this was a misquote.

"I thought it was 'Blessed are the peacemakers'. I wonder how Voldemort will take getting shot with a muggle bullet? Where can I get a gun.? Wait, that's just crazy! Why do I need a gun, I must be going insane! I'm yelling at a book, and it's not even magical!"

_'Only the insane prosper.'_

"What does that mean. The craziest person I know is Voldemort…"

Here he was struck by a thought. Many good people had been destroyed by Voldemort and their deaths had brought him power as fear of him spread across the country. The more he killed the more the ranks of his Death Eaters swelled, and the more he prospered. The good people like his own parents had died while Voldemort had strengthened, and even when magical Britain thought that he had been defeated the loyalty of his followers was such that they had ambushed and tortured people like the Longbottom's.

"So how do I prosper?", Harry wondered aloud.

_'Know your duty.'_

'But what if my duty is unreasonable? I have to fight Voldemort almost every year, and while he has almost killed me every time I have never even gotten close to doing the same to him.

_'Reason begets doubt: doubt begets heresy.'_

"That's a load of crap!"

_'We are bound by the blood of martyrs.'_

This brought Harry to a halt. Voldemort had killed his parents and Cedric. He had almost killed Ginny. His followers had driven Neville's parents insane, caused Sirius to be put into prison, and kidnapped Alastor Moody to get at him! Harry Potter! These weren't the only crimes his enemies were guilty of but they were the ones he knew about, and for which blood had been shed on his behalf.

Harry understood that if he ran away or even died right now the bloodshed would continue. No one would be dieing on his behalf, but he would not be able to do his Duty, and that was to try to kill Voldemort and his followers.

"My Duty is Vengeance?", he asked lying back to looking at the ceiling. Harry thought about this. Would his friends agree with this? Would Sirius or Remus? Would Dumbledore?

Would his parents?

Leaning back in his chair Harry pondered these questions.

"Hermione? No. She has only felt that it was my… her's … well, our duty to do something when the adults could or would not."

"Ron? Depends on how pissed of he is. Unless it's Malfoy insulting his family or Hermione he tries to avoid battle."

Harry stopped and smiled when he thought of another time Ron wouldn't refuse battle, namely when Hermione started to nag him about almost anything. Homework came to mind.

"Ginny? Voldemort tried to kill her with his book, but I suppose you could also say it was Malfoy Sr. that tried to kill her too."

'Does Ginny seek vengeance? I don't know her that well. Maybe I should since I consider her a friend.'

"Sirius and Remus? Yes." They wanted Wormtail dead for his betrayal of them and his parents, and it was doubtful they had any warm, fuzzy feelings for Voldemort. Harry felt that his decision to deny them this revenge, which he realized was their 'Duty' when Wormtail was captured, had lead directly to the death of Cedric and the rebirth of Voldemort.

"Dumbledore?" Harry doubted it. He was almost positive that Dumbledore didn't know the meaning of the word 'vengeance' as he was rather lenient with people who supposedly came back to the Light like Snape.

'My parents?' The specters of his parents that were forced from Voldemort's wand when he and Harry dueled in the Riddle Manor cemetery seem to be gentle. Harry supposed that because they were merely 'echoes' of the living people they represented in a manner similar to magical paintings they were true to the nature of those that had lived. From this Harry could tell that they would have disagreed with the maxim he had just read.

'Then again they are dead. In fact every one of the people I morn who died or has been injured could be considered nice people. Not overly ambitious or with an evil bone in their body. Truly upright, strong, and (mostly) fair-minded people… and none of them have prospered. Instead, they are dead.'

Yes, Harry was beginning to notice a pattern here. It was not necessarily the case that the strongest or smartest people survived a life or death encounter. Both of his parents had been smart and strong at magic, as had many of Voldemort's victims.

It was not a simple matter of 'survival of the fittest' or raw power that decided the outcome of battles. Wormtail was a fairly weak wizard, but even he managed to kill a bunch of people and frame his godfather Sirius for the deed. At the same time, Harry managed to squeak out victories against Voldemort in both his weakened and reborn forms.

Good and evil did not even enter into the equation.

'Ninety-nine percent of the time the person who will win the fight is the one that wants to win that fight the most. Except for the love one has for someone they wish to protect all that matters is the drive to win!' Harry decided that this was his theory of choice.

'Voldemort wanted me dead as a child and wanted to kill those that got in his way, and until my mother placed the blood wards on me he was succeeding. Wormtail wanted his freedom from prison and achieved it. I beat Malfoy at Quidditch because he concentrated on keeping me from catching the snitch, whereas my concern is only to catch it. I beat Voldemort on those occasions he attacked me because my only purpose was to survive while he was concerned with becoming reborn or just showing off. The only exception to this is when I saved Ginny in second year. I didn't care about my survival only Ginny's and I almost died because of it.'

'If survival is not your primary objective, chances are you will at least get injured, if not killed. However, you probably will achieve your primary objective. Indeed, it is true that if a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's Table.'

Harry's mind returned from its wool-gathering to consider his original point.

"What of the Ministry?" Harry knew that most people (like Minister Fudge) didn't even believe or want to believe that Voldemort had returned. He employed and had as advisors and friends such traitors as the Malfoys. How could the Aurors do their Duty if they were lead by such a man.

Turning again to the book he now clutched tightly in his hands he found the next passage both disturbing and comforting at the same time.

_'There can be no bystanders in the battle for survival. Anyone who will not fight by your side is an enemy to be crushed.'_

'There are many more people in the magical world that don't want to believe that Voldemort has returned than those wishing to know the truth. How will I deal with them when they try to silence me? I know they will because this is always what adults try to do with me when I am right, so how will I defend myself from the Rita Skeeters of the world? I won't be crushing them, they will crush me!'

_'My armor is contempt.'_

Harry gently closed the book and looked again at the "BATTLE FOR MACCRAGGE" box. The men in the blue armor whom he now knew from his reading were the genetically modified men called Space Marines fought upon an open plain. Against them were hordes of terrible bug-like aliens called Tyranids, whom they fought in hand to claw combat. From the rules he had read Harry knew that these aliens could tear through the marine's armor like paper. The aliens would literally kill and later eat their enemies, and the only safe way to kill them was at long range.

Yet these Space Marines, apparently lacking in artillery still fought and died for their Emperor and Humanity. Outnumbered, they held their ground. They did their Duty (which did not necessarily equate to 'survival'), they looked to their Wargear to take Vengeance on their enemies, and trusted in their Contempt for their enemies to protect them where their powered armor suits could not.

"So my defense against people like Skeeter is to hold them in contempt. Well, that should be easy. After all, I don't like her and she isn't a Tyranid so I don't have to worry about her eating me." Harry said to himself while smiling.

The table on his nightstand read 9:30 PM by this time. Figuring he had some time to kill before his aunt and uncle decided it was time for his lights-out (Dudley got to stay up for later for some reason) Harry went ahead and started writing his friends with his first letter going to the Weasley's. Mid way through Harry found his mood beginning to dip into the deep darkness that it defaulted towards since the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Balling up and tossing his first attempt Harry re-wrote it sticking as much to a dry regurgitation of the facts as possible. After adding a personal note for Ron in the post script Harry moved on to write Hermione, Sirius, and Remus essentially the same letter. Bundling the letters up Harry was about to attach them to Hedwig before remembering that he had wanted to write separately to Ginny.

The thought also struck him that if he was going to write Ginny, he should also probably write Cho-Chang, Cedric's former girlfriend, too. She deserved an explanation for- well, everything.

Sitting back down Harry tried to decide which letter to tackle writing first. Coming to the conclusion that asking someone else about their problems was easier than telling them about your own Harry chose to write Ginny's letter first. Taking a deep breath he began to write.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm not sure how to word this letter as I feel bad asking you this now so long after the fact. You see, I never asked you how you were doing after what happened in your first year. I just got caught up in my own life and figured 'Hey, she's alive. I saved her, and if there's anything wrong her parents will help her. Her family will probably smother her with comfort and she doesn't need me adding to it. She'd probably ask me to stop.'_

_Now that I'm a little older I realize that I might have been wrong. Your mother smothers me with her hugs when I come to visit you, but I now know that she is trying to make up for what she feels I don't get when I'm here with my aunt and uncle. You, on the other hand, have to compete for attention with all you siblings, and even if they themselves care for you, you are like me and really don't like to be babied._

_I guess I want to know if you were able to cope well with everything that happened. I mean that I want to know if I can do anything to help you now. Are people treating you differently now? Is Draco and his goons giving you grief at school?_

_I hope the Slytherins are leaving you alone. It was Draco's dad who gave you that diary. He got Hagrid arrested and sent to Azkaban and even got Dumbledore fired._

_After I fought the Basilisk and Fawks rescued all of us, Mr. Malfoy came to tell Dumbledore that the Board of Governors had voted to close the school because you were 'dead'. All Dumbledore did was show him the diary and said that the Board had changed their minds and that he 'hoped that none of Mr. Riddles old school things would find their way into the hands of students'._

_When Voldemort got his body back this summer after having Cedric Diggory killed he summoned his Death Eaters back to him. When Voldemort told them that he felt they had abandoned them Malfoy took off his mask and knelt before him that they had all lied to cover their asses but had never truly given up the cause._

_Ginny, I had Gryffindor's sword in my hand that day in Dumbledore's office. Malfoy had his back to me. I had already killed a Basilisk that day, and I can't help but wish I had done the same to Malfoy. The world would be a better place. Dumbledore and I could have covered it up, made it look like self defense. As it is, Malfoy tried to attack me just a few minutes later when he found out I had cost him his house-elf by tricking him. Dobby, the house elf defended me, though._

_Well, I suppose Malfoy had to be alive to be able to free Dobby._

_Sorry, I didn't intend to burden you with my problems. Sometimes I just get so frustrated with the way things are going. I just wanted to let you know I'm here to lend you a friendly ear… or is it 'pair of eyes' this summer if you need talk about things. And when we get back to Hogwarts I promise to not worry so much about my problems and to pay attention to those around me. I know that my relationship with Hermione and Ron suffered because of this same thing happening last year and I think that those of us that are friends should stick together this year._

_I think we're all going to need each other now more than ever._

_Your Friend,_

_Harry_

Looking back over his latest letter Harry realized he had been much more forthcoming in this letter about what he was really thinking than in his others, especially when it came to Malfoy Sr. Looking at the clock Harry saw that it was after midnight so he decided to stop for the night. Tying the letters to Hedwig, Harry kept his letter to Ginny separate, giving the snowy owl instructions to deliver it separately to Ginny. Opening the window Harry let her wing off to some temporary freedom.

Harry didn't have long to envy his owl's easy getaway from Privet Drive before said uncle's melodious voice shouted up to him that his light was going off. A moment later the manual circuit breaker for his room was tripped plunging Harry into darkness. Figuring now was a good time to sleep with the exhaustion of the day catching up with him Harry cleared off Dudley's bed. Gently placing the Games Workshop products next to the bed for later study but not bothering to remove his work cloths Harry laid down on the bed and was quickly off into a deep sleep.

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Soundtrack Theme #2

Artist: Michael Kamen

Track Title: The Forward Decks

Album: 'Event Horizon: Selections From The Motion Picture Soundtrack'

Harry stood up from the ground and brushing the dirt from his body noticed he was wearing is Hogwarts Champion uniform. Looking around he saw that he was once again returned to the inky darkness of the Riddle Manor cemetery.

"Wands out Harry?", asked a voice beside him.

Harry turned to his right to be greeted by the sight of a just beginning to decompose Cedric Diggory. Cedric smiled at him causing some worms that had roosted between his teeth to become exposed. Taking a step towards Harry the apparition's shrunken left eye fell out of its socket only to dangle on the side of its face by a few strands of muscle.

Harry took three halting steps back away from the apparition before coming up against something solid. Looking up he saw the grinning bare skull with a few wisps of red hair clinging to the top. "Harry my baby!" the skull exclaimed in his mother's voice.

Quickly reversing directions Harry saw with growing horror that the skeleton with his mother's voice was wearing the outfit she wore the night she was killed protecting him.

A skeletal hand rested itself on his shoulder as a voiced said, "Come on son, it's over."

Harry could guess whose voice that was but resisted the urge to turn around to see the decomposing corpse of his father. Grasping the skeletal hand on his shoulder he felt the bones of the hand creak and he threw off its grip. In a trembling voice he asked "What do you mean, it's over?"

"You know exactly what we mean Harry.", the voice of Remus Lupin reached his ears before he saw his corpse stagger towards him. A large and obviously fatal head wound still leak blood down his travel-worn brown suit and robes. "You resist the Dark Lord's will, and every time you do people die. If you keep standing in his way he will destroy all you love and care for!"

"But you aren't dead!" Harry cried out. He found himself being backed up toward the headstone of Voldemort's father by the press of the corpses now surrounding him. Continuing to back up so he could face the even now enlarging crowd he found himself tripping over something. While trying to crawl back to his feet he came face to face with his godfather Sirius. His godfather didn't great him with words of doom, however, as it became quickly apparent that he was actually still alive. He was just sitting there, though. His mouth hanging open and his eyes blank.

Harry realized a Dementor had sucked out his soul.

"That is only a matter of time." Said a cloaked figure from the mist behind Remus. Out of this mist came the figures of all his friends in various states of death. Ron looked as though he'd been run over by the night bus. Neville was relatively intact as he had apparently only suffered the Killing Curse. The Weasley Twins had been used by Death Eaters to test some of there own more 'experimental' joke products and were still showing the signs of this.

Voldemort finally strode from the mist trailed by three figures dressed in simple white robes. On the left was Hermione, and to the right was Cho Chang. Ginny stood in the middle.

Quickly making his way toward Harry, Voldemort caused Harry to again trip over his godfather and smash backwards against the headstone. Before he could run to the side to get away he felt the statue of the Angel of Death above him on the headstone reach down, trapping him against it.

"Apparently Ms. Chang's only regret before she died was that she was going to die a virgin. Hearing this, the father's of some of your fellow students- namely Mr. Malfoy, Crabby, and Goyle- decided to make men out of their sons. I sorry I could not control them." Voldemort stated plainly.

"Ladies, please show Mr. Potter the results."

As the girls opened their robes Harry tried to turn his head away and screw his eyes shut. The statue forced his head around and from somewhere the severed hand of Wormtail forced his eyes open.

Harry screamed in horror, and rage. It went on for a while before tapering of into a tone of hurt and defeat.

Voldemort moved close to him, blocking the horror of the vision before him.

"Harry." Voldemort said beseechingly. "You can end this. No more of this needs to happen, and I promise, on my honor to leave your friends alone. None of my followers will harm them. You just need to do one thing for me Harry. I need you to leave whatever protections Dumbledore has you under. You need to go somewhere into the wizarding world Harry so I can kill you. Then the war can end. Then your friends will be safe."

Harry looked at Voldemort in stunned silence. He turned his gaze to look at the horror of the dead stretching out before him. He locked eyes or eye-sockets with each one in turn before turning back to Voldemort with hate-filled look.

"Bullshit! You have no honor and you'd just kill them after I was gone!"

Realizing that he had failed to make a convincing argument Voldemort back up from Harry and with an evil grin pointed his wand at him. In front of Harry the ground opened to reveal a now opened and empty casket at the bottom of a deep hole.

"Avada Kedavra"

Harry saw a green light hit him and at the same time the statue release him. He felt himself falling into the open grave face first and his last thought was that dead people shouldn't fear falling.

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Harry found himself slamming down hard on a wide darkened hallway. Standing up again he found that that without wanting to move his footsteps made no sound as he made his way along the dark marble floor. The deserted hallway ended in a door. Approaching closer a bright light began to emanate from behind it, causing the edges of the door to stand out.

"I must have it!", said a voice not his own.

Harry saw his 'hand' reach out to the doorknob. The skin of his hand was pale and reptilian. Twisting the knob he wrenched open the door and looked upon…

Harry hissed in pain while clutching at his forehead with both hands. It felt like someone was splitting his head open with an ax. He found his anger from the first, now fading dream still near at hand. With a burst of adrenaline and rage the pain in his head seemed to ebb away.

'I'd better let Dumbledore know about this. He might be able to tell me what is going on.'. Getting up to write his letter he noticed that Hedwig had already returned from her mail delivery run. Deciding that his first dream was a little too personal to explain to the Headmaster, Harry wrote about his second dream in as much detail as he could before sending Hedwig off on her second journey of the night.

Finding his body now exhausted from his adrenaline rush Harry laid back on his bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Soundtrack Theme #3

Artist: Ronnie James Dio

Title: Dream Evil

Album: 'Diamonds: The Best of Dio'

Modified 06/06/2008

Author's Notes: Yep I'm going there. The land of no return that is a Warhammer 40,000 / Harry Potter crossover. Given that J.K. Rowling never allowed Harry to kill a Death Eater with a spell, much less a gun, and that when asked at a convention if he had read the latests Harry Potter novel, a senior member of the rules development and editorial staff at Games Workshop said "Harry who?", you'd figure that these two fictional universes are completely incompatible.

Well, they are!

This story isn't just for those people that started muttering to themselves around book five of the series that 'Harry needs to go get a gun'. It's for those of us that thought Harry needed to get a plasma gun... and a force sword... and some friggin' power armor with a jump pack. Hell, give him and the male members of the D.A. some space marine implants and let him kick some ass (the ladies can have the power armor too, but since the implants would kill them they can't have any).

For those of you that have no idea what I'm talking about, go look it up on the companies website or wikipedia. If you go to the corporate website click on the 'Warhammer 40,000' tab on the left side of the screen. Look up 'Space Marines', 'Tyranids', and for the ladies the 'Sisters of Battle' sections.

Please refer her for copyright information for all future chapters.

Relevant copyrights are (shamelessly copied and pasted) as follows:

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**Games Workshop PLC  
Willow Road, Lenton,  
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**Harry Potter: **It's a shame that nobody out there has compiled a complete trademark and copyright list for all WTO member countries for this series (as Games Workshop has for their products. That said, I know the following companies and individuals have control of this 'IP':

JK. Rowling

Scholastic Books

Warner Brothers

Listed Song: Copyrighted by their owners and respective publishers.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I am going to try to have this story updated by midnight Pacific Standard Time every Sunday. See the end of Chapter #1 for author's notes and legals.

Day #2: Dudley's Training.

Thought for the Day: "The fallen shall forever be remembered as the Emperor's finest."

Soundtrack #4

Artist: Manowar

Title: Fighting the World

Album: Fighting the World

Aunt Petunia's voice greeted Harry's ears much too early in the morning. Going down the stairs while half-asleep, Harry began his first chore of the day- namely cooking breakfast for his family.

After the 'animals' (as Harry had taken to thinking of his family) were properly fed and watered Dudley and his uncle left. As usual Mr. Dursley was headed for his job, but he was taking Dudley with him so that he could go to his boxing practice at the local gym. Apparently the Dursley's had enrolled their son in a boxing class as a way to both help him lose weight while at the same time doing something in which he had an interest.

Once the dishes were washed Harry began his outside work. Using a set of old pruning shears he trimmed the hedges along the fence into something more uniform. After picking up his cuttings at around noon he then started to weed his aunt perennial flowerbeds.

Harry wanted to stop to take a break at four when he heard Dudley return from his summer boxing practice, but his aunt had locked the back door and he knew he wouldn't get very far going in through the front.

By sunset the flower beds had been weeded, fertilized, watered, and had mulched spread over them to help control weed growth. Not having been allowed to stop at all during the day Harry was dead tired but knew that he still had to help cook dinner.

Going back inside the house Harry went into the kitchen to clean up enough that he could work in the kitchen. His aunt stopped him at the door, however, stating that 'Dudley needed him to do something outside' and that she would be cooking dinner.

Returning to the back porch Harry saw Dudley relaxing in one of the lawn chairs while strapping on a pair of boxing gloves. Upon seeing him he toss Harry a pair of large pads which he barely managed to catch.

"Put those on your hands and hold them up in front of you.", were Dudley's simple instructions.

Tired from a long day of work Harry half-heartedly put the pads on his hands before lifting them up slightly. Sighing he looked up again at Dudley only to immediately have to duck out of the way of a fist aimed at his face.

"Get your hands up! Those pads are my target, but if you let them drop I'll go after you."

Quickly recovering Harry held the pads up higher so that Dudley had a target besides his head. Dudley proceeded to work up a sweat throwing straight punches with each fist striking the pad directly opposite it. Becoming bored with this Dudley started alternating the pads he struck. Then he practiced cross punches, then uppercuts.

"Harry, you need to move the pads around. I need a moving target."

With his arms feeling like lead weights and his hands gone numb from the repeated blows Harry wasn't inclined to do this. However, when Dudley tried to punch him in the face again he decided that Dudley was determined to get a moving target one way or the other and that he should sacrifice his hands instead.

After a while Harry's exhaustion began to catch up with him. His hands began to drop but instead of going after him Dudley began to reduce the rate of his punches. Looking up to see what was going on Harry saw a calculating look in Dudley's eyes.

"So Harry. Who is this Cedric fellow? Is he your boyfriend?".

Dudley's next punch was deflected by Harry rather than absorbed as all the previous punches had been.

Smirking, Dudley continued his line of questioning with "Does he keep you company at night at that freak school you go to?"

Dudley's next trios of punches were blocked with the pads before he could reach full extension, with the third being stalled before he could even bring his fist forward. Looking Harry in the eye he saw anger and smiled widely.

"I bet he did. And now that it is summer you miss him, don't you Harry?"

Harry continued to block Dudley's blows, but now the pads were moving quickly and if was as if Harry was advancing on him.

Soundtrack #5

Artist: Dropkick Murphys

Title: The Warrior's Code

Album: The Warrior's Code

"I know you miss your boyfriend! I hear you calling out his name at night. 'Oh Cedric, Please no!'".

Dudley grunted in surprise when the left pad hit his stomach, doubling him over. The follow-up cross punch struck his nose and backed him up several paces.

"Does that mean you like it rough Harry?"

A wordless battle cry and a flurry of blows was Dudley's answer. Dudley was put on the defensive as Harry closed the distance. Before he knew it Dudley almost had his back to the shrubs that Harry had trimmed that afternoon.

Knowing that even though none of Harry's latest punches had connected solidly yet it would only be a matter of time before they did, Dudley suddenly shifted to his left. Harry's right cross took him into the shrubs and opened him up to an uppercut to the ribs that knocked the wind out of him while putting his face into the plants.

Backing off Harry gulped in air and wiped at the cuts on his face from the shrubs while watching to see if Dudley pressed his advantage. Once his breathing returned to something almost normal, Dudley asked him, "Have you had enough?"

Harry response was to once again start advancing on his opponent. Dudley smiled widely and moved sideways toward the center of the yard.

This time the two opponents took stock of each other, each probing punch being met with a block or dodge. When Harry attacked Dudley would try to block him so that he opened Harry to a return punch. However, with Harry's Seeker-trained reflexes and sense of balance he was able to dance away from all of Dudley's ripostes and Dudley was forced to go on the offensive to try to end the stalemate.

Finding that he was the one now being backed against the shrubs Harry decided that boxing wasn't how he really wanted to fight this opponent.

"Damn it Harry! There is no kicking in boxing!"

Dudley's attempt to show Harry the error of his ways by punching his nose up through his brain was met with a foot sweep that sent him sprawling into the hedges. Harry took a moment to admire Dudley's attempt at getting out of the shrubs, which reminded his somewhat of a beached whale wallowing in the shallows of a shore.

Once Dudley finished extricating himself from the plants and finished spitting out leaves he looked at Harry accusingly and stated "That was an illegal move!"

"Had enough?", Harry said while grinning back at him.

It was now Dudley's turn to give out a berserker cry of rage. Harry's strait punch to Dudley's solar plexus failed to stop the rampaging beast, and Dudley's return punch was far more devastating.

The right hook smashed into Harry's left eye causing him to see stars, but the real damage was from the elbow of the same arm that hit Harry just below the ear as Dudley continued his follow-through.

Grabbing onto Dudley to stay standing Harry looked down and tried to blink the stars in his eyes away. As the ground stopped wobbling he heard Dudley say something about the last punch being an 'illegal move too'.

Harry lifted his head to look and Dudley and ask what he meant by that, all thoughts of fighting actually forgotten. The two Dudley faces made this difficult though, and the fact that they wouldn't stop moving didn't help either.

He never got to ask the Dudleys' what they were talking about, however, as he heard another person screaming in his ear just before something hit him on the left side of the head again and he felt himself falling before everything blacked out.

Modified 06/06/2008


	3. Chapter 3

Day #3: On Hold

Note: Since your already tooling around the Internet, why don't you go to to get the songs for the soundtracks I list. Most of them should be there. A few notes follow at the end of this chapter.

Given that this chapter and last chapter are a little on the short side I will try to double up on the chapters this next week. This means next chapter will be out on Wednesday, and the one after on Sunday as usual.

See the end of Chapter # 1 for the legals and main authors notes.

_Thought for the Day: "The burden of failure is the most terrible punishment of all."_

Day #3: On Hold.

Soundtrack #6

Artist: Jeremy Soule

Title: (on ) TES4 Oblivion Music: Atmosphere part 1

Album: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

Sunlight streamed through the window blinding an already squinting and dehydrated Harry from his place on the floor of his room. Having no idea how he ended up where he was with a mouth that felt like the Sahara he tried to get up only to cry out and clutch the left side of his ribs. Turning over he crawled over to the bed and used it to help him stand up.

Looking at the clock on the nightstand Harry noted that the time was 8:00 AM, well past his usual summertime wake-up call.

"Hoot!", came the voice from outside the window, making Harry rush as fast as he could to let Hedgewig inside. As she came in through the window giving Harry a gentle smack with her wing as a reprimand for making her wait she flew to her cage. Pausing on the way to her water dish Hedwig looked over at the wounded Harry in concern and hopped over to his bed, giving out a mournful hoot at the state of his black eye and bruised face.

Hearing a rustle coming from the dog flap on his door Harry and Hedwig spied his aunt's hand placing yet another stale cheese sandwich and water bottle onto the floor. Thinking that was it Harry walked towards the door, only to be surprised when a small pot with a lid roll through the dog-flap, smashing the already sad looking sandwich.

Grunting with the effort Harry bent down to pick up the pot while try to parse out what its purpose was. Enlightenment was fast in coming, however, as the call of nature which had not been answered for at least a day made itself known.

"Oh, hell no!", said Harry, as he began bashing the door with the pot.

Petunia took her time answering his summons and was at first reluctant to let Harry use their indoor plumbing facilities, but changed her mind when he threatened to emulate what the monkeys at the zoo had done to Vernon on their last trip.

Figuring that Petunia was only following his uncle's orders Harry used his dormant Slytherin skills and the threat of telling his 'murdering godfather' about how he was being treated to reclaim his bathroom privileges, which he proceeded to abuse by taking longer than a one minute shower. After this, Harry took some time to study and doctor his recent wounds, bandaging his damaged ribs with one of Vernon's huge towels, and nabbing most of the pain relieving pills in the medicine cabinet.

After being escorted back to his room by his obviously impatient aunt Harry decided that he had let enough of the summer pass without doing his homework. Pulling out his Charms book and assignment Harry sat at his desk and began his rough draft for a five foot essay on a single mood-altering charm (his choice) and its long-term effects on magical beings. At first daunted by the fact that he would have to stretch such a small subject into a large report, he relaxed when he realized that his professor had not limited him to the effects of the spell on witches and wizards, but to all magical beings as a whole.

Working solidly until lunch Harry was able to complete the assignment. Deciding to give his hand a break he dined on his meager lunch while going over his transfigurations text. With his research done and his meal complete Harry wanted to take a break from all work what-so-ever.

"Well… crap!"

Harry quickly came to the conclusion that while he had many choices of things to do all of them were some variation of work.

He could clean out Hedgewig's cage.

Clean up his room.

Do his homework.

Write letters to friends who have yet to answer his last letter (which, after writing a five foot report sounded an awful lot like work to Harry).

Or, rather tempting at this moment, cry.

Sleeping, however, was not an option. Especially after the dreams he had been having.

With the clock on the night stand reading 2:00 PM Harry decided to pace himself. The owl cage was cleaned and the water bowl refilled. This was quite a trick too, considering Hedgewig refused to wake up and get out of it.

The clock now read 2:30 PM.

Harry next attacked the mess on his floor. Obviously broken or damaged items we tossed into a large cardboard box he found in the closet, while anything salvageable was inspect for possible use.

An old fan of Dudley's that would only work when set on the low setting immediately found a home on Harry's desk, while an old textbook that was just the right height helped even out the damaged desk chair.

The clock now read 3:00 PM.

Looking around for any more junk that he might have missed Harry noticed the pile of Games Workshop products that he had placed under his bed recently. Surprised that he had forgotten about having done this he reached in and grabbed a random book.

Soundtrack #7

Artist: Jeremy Soule

Title: 01 – Outer Reaches

Album: Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War

"Codex Space Marines" he said, reading aloud the books title before studying the armored figures on the cover.

Opening the book he started to read.

Looking up a little later he saw the clock read 4:00 PM.

Suddenly it seemed to Harry that there were not enough hours in the day.

Wincing in pain as he dug through the pile of gaming supplies Harry found the "Battle of Ultramar" box and along with some other boxes of Space Marine models, dumped their contents' on the desk.

A quick hunt through the desk garnered Harry an Exacto-knife, an old squeeze tube of superglue, and a needle (for poking a hole though the crusty dried superglue in said tube).

"Now where are those assembly instructions?"

Carefully stretching his body so as not to injure his ribs or fall out of his chair, Harry looked upon the fifty-odd men, tanks, walkers, and armored personnel carriers he had assembled.

Noticing that his space marine commander model was missing his shoulder armor Harry reached into his box of spare parts, and with his superglue applied proceeded to hold the piece against the model.

Glancing over at his clock he was surprised to see that it was 8:00PM. The time had gotten away from him as yet another sandwich and water bottle had been given to him, along with a note saying that he would be allowed to use the facilities at nine that night.

"Dudley and Vernon must be home already. Strange, I didn't even hear them come in."

As the hour was late he decided to eat and start writing those letters to his friends. Placing the space marine commander model on the table he reached with his other hand for the parchment.

The maneuver was interrupted, however, by the fact that the model was still in his hand, its shoulder pad clinging tenaciously to the pad of his thumb.

Shaking his hand failed to dislodge the model, and it was only at the cost of a couple layers of skin and with the expert employment of his Exacto-knife that Harry was freed of his model.

"_A moment of intention spawns a lifetime of heresy_." Harry quoted from one of the rulebooks. "Also, it leads to missing skin! Owww!"

Harry began to inhale his dinner, while going over in his mind what he wanted to tell his friends about recent events. He decided that his threat to fling poo like a monkey in protest to not being able to use the bathroom was rather funny, however, the reasons he was in such a predicament were not.

He would have to be circumspect with how he worded things so as not to have Sirius rush over here and possibly get himself captured by Aurors in the process.

"Wouldn't that be lying to Ginny?", he asked himself.

Deciding to again use his suppressed Slytherin intellect Harry determined to give Ginny the unadulterated truth with a warning to keep these things to herself while at the same time giving an edited version of reality to everyone else.

With that mental conversation concluded Harry noticed that he had killed another hour of waiting and this time his uncle was there to let him out.

"You have five minutes, boy! No fooling around! And don't you go near Dudley!"

Harry quickly finished his evening absolutions before returning to his room to write his letters. Pausing to consider mentioning the toys his cousin had so generously donated to him to his friends, Harry decided against it.

Finishing his letters, Harry stopped before sending Hedwig with them. "Should I wait to see if they respond to my letters, or if I have another nightmare so I can write Dumbledore?"

Irritation overcame his hesitancy; however, as he had given his friends ample time to respond even with the Weasley's ancient owl, Errol, bringing the reply. Dumbledore obviously didn't think sending him a response was a high priority either as a phoenix could flash-fire from location to location.

Letting Hedwig go, Harry climbed into bed and soon was asleep. His dreams, however, were again disturbed by the same dreams of death and the echoing foots in marble halls.

Notes: The loss of skin that Harry suffered in this chapter is typical of most of those of us who assemble models, including myself. This happened to me when I was gluing together some Khorne Berzerker Chaos Space Marine models. Somewhere out there is a Berzerker with some of my own flesh on it.

No, it didn't hurt. It was just the top layer. My Berzerker failed his patron go Khorne, 'Lord of Blood' as he failed to make me bleed.

The Dawn of War tracks can be gotten at downloads./game-soundtracks/album/warhammer-40-000-dawn-of-war-soundtrack

Just right-click on the tract file names to download.

And while your at it, go buy yourself a copy o Dawn of War. Its a pretty darn good RTS, independent of the fact that it is a GW related product.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter #4

Sorry this chapter is a day later. The content should make up for that though.

Note: For those of you who might care to ask about these kinds of things, I cheated a bit with this story in that I'm using written material form the 4th edition of Warhammer 40,000 instead of going all the way back to 2nd Edition (there is a huge difference between the two). I did this because I can't find my old books, and a lot of the rules for the game back then weren't all that well thought out. Also, the army commanders and lower ranking officers were god-like in their abilities, so much so that often times they would be the only thing left standing at the end of a game.

Some people like this, though. These people probably also like the massive character death in the last three books of the Harry Potter. These losses can be attributed to poor strategic planning and initiative, and bad tactical execution caused by said bad planning, and a lack of practice fighting and operating as a group on the 'good guys' side.

If you ask me the Order of the Phoenix and Ministry of Magic were planning to fail.

Thus end-ith the sermon.

Additionally, when 5th Edition WH40K comes out in July of this year I will work this into the story. The character(s) will have reactions to this just like regular gamers would, with the usual happiness and complaints about their units becoming 'uber' while others are incredibly 'nerfed'.

Thought for the Day: Heresy feeds on idleness.

Chapter #4: Labor Day

Soundtrack Theme #8

Band: Ronnie James Dio

Title: Heaven & Hell

Album: Evil or Divine

"Harry." Voldemort said beseechingly. "You can end this. No more of this needs to happen, and I promise, on my honor to leave your friends alone. None of my followers will harm them. You just need to do one thing for me Harry. I need you to leave whatever protections Dumbledore has you under. You need to go somewhere into the wizarding world Harry so I can kill you. Then the war can end. Then your friends will be safe."

Harry looked at Voldemort confused. It felt like he'd had been here before, as if he had some experience being in this graveyard besides at the end of the tri-wizard tournament. He turned his gaze to look at the horror of the dead stretching out before him. He locked eyes or eye-sockets with each one in turn before turning back to Voldemort with hate-filled look.

"Bullshit! You have no honor and you'd just kill them after I was gone!"

Realizing that he had failed to make a convincing argument Voldemort back up from Harry and with an evil grin pointed his wand at him. In front of Harry the ground opened to reveal a now opened and empty casket at the bottom of a deep hole.

"Stubborn as always, Potter! I suppose I should have expected this, coming from you. Avada Kedavra"

Harry saw a green light hit him and at the same time the statue release him. He felt himself falling into the open grave face first, and his last thought was that dead people shouldn't fear falling.

(RTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTS)

Harry found himself slamming down hard on a wide darkened hallway, the feeling of deja-vu again reasserting itself. Standing up again he found that that without wanting to move his footsteps made no sound as he made his way along the dark marble floor. The deserted hallway ended in a door. Approaching closer a bright light began to emanate from behind it, causing the edges of the door to stand out.

"I must have it!", said a voice not his own.

Harry saw his 'hand' reach out to the doorknob. The skin of his hand was pale and reptilian. Twisting the knob he wrenched opened the door and looked upon…

(RTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTS)

Harry hissed in pain while clutching at his forehead with both hands. Blood oozed from between his fingers where they covered his curse scar.

"Those same damn dreams!", Harry exclaimed as his grip tightened as his scar pulsed with pain one last time. As the pain lessened so did the details of the dream. Because of this Harry rushed over to his desk and by the baleful light of the moon scratched out his impressions with ink and quill.

It was a full minute before the pain receptors around Harry's bruised ribs burned though the adrenaline to remind him of their current status. Now instead of clutching his head in pain he did the same with his chest.

Pausing to take some steadying breaths and uncurl from the pain induced tension in his body Harry gingerly finished his notes on his nightmares. Glancing over at her cage, he noticed that once again Hedgewig had returned rather early from her mail deliveries and without a single letter in return. Too upset from his mind's nighttime wanderings to be annoyed at this, Harry sorted out his memories from his second dream in a letter to send to Dumbledore.

Hedgewig was glad to have another reason to go out that night and as soon as Harry tied on the letter was off in a flash. Wide awake with no hope or desire to go back to sleep, Harry glanced around his room. Flicking the switch on his desk lamp he noticed that his room still had power running to it so his uncle had forgotten to shut it off. Irritated that he actually hadn't needed to write by the light of the moon, Harry took stock of his option for something to do besides homework.

Using the water from his bottle and a rag he cleaned the scar blood from his hands the best he could. Inspecting his hands which were slightly stained from the lack of soap used Harry came up with an idea to waste time.

"Alright, let's paint some miniatures."

Dumping the cardboard box of broken toys on his bed he cut three of the sides so that they were barely there, then placed a couple of squads of miniatures in it. Standing the box against the wall next to the desk Harry began to read the label on the spray can of flat black paint.

"Chaos Black Undercoat. Caution: Flammable. Please use only in a well ventilated area! Hmm, I wonder who comes up with Games Workshop's paint names" Harry looked around the room and turned on the fan so that it would blow the air after he sprayed out of the room. Reading the rest of the instructions Harry gently shook the can (so as not to aggravate his ribs) and began to spray. A half our later all the models were done with their first coat, and while waiting for them to dry Harry look for something else to do besides getting high off paint fumes.

"Well ventilated my ass! Where's a tornado when you need one.", said Harry, while turning on his rather weak fan to help air out the room.

Spying the pot that Petunia had given him the morning before Harry figured it would be good for cleaning his paintbrushes. Harry painted one side with a thin coat of 'Smelly Primer'(Games Workshop strikes again), and when that dried he grabbed a large bottle of a metallic green paint not made by Games Workshop (blasphemy!). With a steady hand he proceeded to paint the words 'Harry's Ye Olde Chamber Pot of Secrets' in old English calligraphy style.

After cleaning his brushes in his new pot and dumping the used water out the window Harry turned back to consider his models. From his reading he knew that painting just a couple of pieces on the armor would give him the color scheme of half a dozen Space Marine "Chapters" already mentioned in some of the games background writing. Harry didn't mind using a pre-existing paint scheme and chapter name, but wanted one whose ethos and play style matched him in personality. Something that would truly represent him in all respects and (more importantly) was fairly easy to paint.

'_His eyes are green like a fresh pickled toads_'. For some reason his sleep deprived mind dredged a line from a Valentine's poem that Ginny Weasley had made for him in his second year.

"Well, Ginny, you're making things easy for me.", said Harry while reaching for a book with green armored Space Marines on it. A quick read through the material convinced Harry that making his army that of the 'Dark Angels' Chapter or one of its Successor Chapters was a good fit. These Space Marines had fought as members of the old Space Marine Legions on the behalf of their Emperor from the founding of the Imperium and later, through a galaxy-spanning civil war against other groups of Traitor Marines and their allies who followed the Imperium's second in command, Horus, who had turned to the worship of the Chaos Gods (in other words, turned Dark) and wanted to become Emperor himself. When the Loyalist forces were finally victorious the Dark Angels returned to their home world to rest and refit they found that the brethren they had left at home had followed the same path as those who followed Horus. Hell, it was their second in command, a man named Luther who was the best friend of the Dark Angels leader, the Primarch Lion El'Johnson, that lead this mini-rebellion.

In the end the results of this mini-rebellion were the same as those of the big one the Marines had just fought in. Luther was defeated, but he dealt a near-mortal wound to his one-time friend and master while the other traitors escaped destruction. The home world of the Dark Angels cracked and broke apart under the force of the planetary bombardment that the Loyalist were forced to subject it to, leaving only the fortress-monastery and the ground beneath it where the final confrontation between the two old friends had taken place intact. This place was hollowed out later by the Dark Angels to use as their home base and became known as 'The Rock'.

Soundtrack Theme #9

Band: Metallica

Title: Unforgiven

Album: Metallica

The Dark Angels saw the betrayal by their former brothers as a stain on their honor, and hid the knowledge of this rebellion from the rest of the Imperium. Their sense of guilt by association carried through the break-up and reformation of the original Space Marine Legions into separate, smaller, thousand-marine Chapters. They and their Successor Chapters formed from then on came to be known as 'The Unforgiven' and continued to hunt the escaped Traitors (now referred to as the 'Fallen'), who now lived abnormally long lives as a consequence of their Dark Patrons many 'Blessings'. As those with the knowledge of the 'Fall' were killed in battle or passed away from old age, the knowledge of this secret shame was hidden even from the younger brethren until only certain individuals of the Unforgiven's 'Inner Circle' of senior commanders and staff had any idea of the truth, and only the Grand Master of the Dark Angels Chapter knew the truth in its entirety.

Harry was impressed with the number of parallels between the history of the Dark Angels and his own life. When not in their armor the Marines wore robes similar to wizard's robes. The description of The Rock with its crenellated battlements and miles of tunnels below was similar to that of Hogwarts. The Fallen were like Dark Wizards, and the Aurors, Hit Wizards, and Muggle Oblivator Squads served a purpose similar to that of the Dark Angels dedicated Fallen hunters in the Deathwing and Ravenwing Companies (the first and second companies of the Chapter's ten companies). The 'circles within circles' mentality of the Inner Circle, and the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore's 'old crowd' hiding the truth about Harry himself and his enemy Voldemort only added to the lengthening list.

Felling like he had a lot in similarities with the 'common' Marine and scouts in the Chapter who had the truth being withheld from them, Harry moved on to look at possible paint combinations. He wasn't overly thrilled with the insignia of the Chapter, which used a pair of simplified wings bisected by a double-edged sword to represent it. A quick search through the Successor Chapters listed yielded the 'Disciples of Caliban' Chapter. They kept the green and white color scheme of the Dark Angels, but their symbol was of a standing lion holding the double edged sword. The Lion represented the Unforgiven's original Primarch, Lion El' Johnson, but it appealed to Harry's Gryffindor heart.

Grabbing a new can of spray paint conveniently labeled 'Dark Angel Green' Harry set to work painting his next coat. He wondered if he should write the company asking for a new shade, though. Something with the word 'Toad' in its name perhaps.

By the time the clock read 7:00 AM Harry had completed his labor of love/boredom. With steady hand Harry had painted all the little details down to the metal of the gun barrels. The Lion with sword motif on the left shoulder pad had been the hardest part as he was forced to do it freehand and the first few resembled more a blob with a stick than anything else. After that hand painting the squad markings on the other shoulder pad was a breeze. By the time he got to painting the Company identifier on the left knee-pad Harry took the easy way out for his tired eyes and gave them the single diagonal red strip that signified that the Marines were members of the third company of the Chapter.

Cleaning up his brushes and supplies Harry cleared his desk before going over to his bed. As he had rendered the old toy box useless for its old job he piled the junk into a corner of his room. Stretching out on his bed he had just dragged the covers back over him when his aunt began pounding the door.

With a groan Harry got up to see what the problem was.

Petunia pointed to the bathroom and in a daze Harry went about his morning ablutions. Stepping out of the bathroom a few minutes later Petunia wordlessly handed him a huge list of chores in his uncle's handwriting with a hastily scratched note at the end.

_Harry,_

_If you complete all these chores before your uncle returns he will have a nice surprise for you tomorrow._

_-Petunia_

Raising his eyebrows at this Harry looked up to see his aunt still standing there apparently waiting for his reaction. Seeing his questioning expression Petunia smiled at him and pointed toward the back door.

Looking over the list Harry was rather unimpressed. How was he supposed to do a week's worth of chores in a day?

"Outside: Mow, edge, and fertilize the lawns, wash out the rain gutters, window screens, and windows?"

This might have been do-able were it not for the other half of the list.

"Inside: Knock down cobwebs (including the attic), dust, vacuum, and steam clean all rooms. Clean, scrub, and mop all bathrooms, strip and re-stain the baseboards, and oil the furniture."

Harry sighed before muttering, "Well, shit!"

The last ten hours had been hell for Harry. The only time saver he was able to work out was a way to jury-rig a belt and gear onto both the back lawnmower axle and the hand spreader for fertilizing the lawn. Offering to mow and fertilize a neighbor's tiny front yard in exchange for the use of their motorized edger also helped some (the lady was having trouble getting her husband or daughter to do the mowing, and she didn't think the little hoodlum could kill anyone with an edger, of all things).

His bruised ribs continued to ache, however, and really let him know about it when he started climbing onto a ladder to clean the gutters and windows. Throbbing began when he went inside to take down the cobwebs that occupied every corner of the ceiling, and they were practically screaming by the time he got to start moving the furniture (except the beds) to do the vacuuming and cleaning. Doing this to each room individually was required, as the furniture had to go somewhere when it wasn't in the room it was usually in.

There were a few bright spots to his day, though. His aunt actually made him his lunch which was rare in and of itself, but it was also a _ham_ and cheese sandwich for once, and she brought him water as needed.

Petunia left that afternoon to get Dudley. Upon her return she saw Harry moving the last of the living room furniture back into place. Turning to face her Harry said "Aunt Petunia, I'm going to start on the baseboards."

Petunia stopped to consider his words. See stood watching him return from the garage with sandpaper, old rags and the wood stain. Noticing him wince and clutch at his bruised rib as he knelt down to begin Petunia stopped.

"Stop. You might accidentally stain the flooring and walls with that oil if you do it wrong. It's overcast outside so I want you to go wash and wax my car instead."

While the thought of more work bothered Harry, he wasn't about to argue with anything that would get him off the hard floor. Quickly escaping outside Harry set himself to this new task, which is what Vernon found him doing two hours latter. None too pleased to catch Harry doing anything outside his room that he, Vernon himself, had not sanctioned he grabbed him by the arm and frog-marched Harry inside all the way to the kitchen. Harry looked down and noticed that the carpet, which was still a little damp from the steam-cleaning chemicals, was now covered with a trail of two sets of muddy footprints and had to bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing.

"Petunia! Why was the freak outside when I got here. He should have finished out there hours ago! Why weren't you watching him?"

Petunia looked up at her husband in surprise. Looking down she noticed Vernon's hands on Harry and both their muddy shoes'. As her complexion started to go white both men took on worried looks and glanced at each other. When Petunia moved so that she could look over their shoulders and at the mess on her living room carpet they both leaned back from her, but before they could step back onto the carpet they were yanked back forward by a now red-faced Petunia.

"Harry," Petunia said with a voice that was unusually calm, "Take off your shoes, go out the back door, and finish waxing my car like _I told you to_."

Quickly doing as he was told Harry made haste to exit the house. He ran into Dudley who was on his way back inside.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you." Harry said putting up a hand to stop him.

"Why should I listen to you." Dudley challenged.

_"VERNON! YOU __**IDIOT**__! That carpet is still wet with CHEMICALS, and if you don't clean that mud of this instant it will permanently stain! AND YOU __WILL__ HAVE TO BUY A NEW CARPET! __**NO**__! TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF BEFORE YOU GO BACK IN THERE!"_

"Oh.", was all Dudley said.

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Harry took his time polishing the wax on the bonnet of his aunt's car. The sun had long since gone down and his ribs throbbed horribly, but the view from where he stood was just too good to pass up.

Harry got to listen to Petunia vent for quite a while. Apparently Vernon was on thin ice with his wife and had been for a while. The best part in Harry's opinion was when Vernon got yelled at for giving Harry his latest wounds. Not so much because Vernon had hit Harry, but because he had done it out in the open where the 'freaks' could see it and do something about it. It seemed that the next morning Petunia had received an owl which carried a nicely worded threat. Showing Vernon the letter Harry could see through the window that it was worded like a muggle ransom note, complete with all the letters in each sentence being cut out of newspapers and magazines with different fonts and sizes.

'Must be Sirius' work.' Harry mused.

The neighborhood gossips sat on their porches and enjoyed the serenade of Petunia's voice. While they couldn't hear everything that went on, Harry saw them nodding their heads at phrases they caught the juicier parts like 'why don't you respect my decisions', and 'I have authority too' which were interspersed with many words they would have punished their own children for using. Apparently to them the only thing better than hearing gossip about who was cheating on whom was to listen to a man being put in his place, and Harry caught the ladies admiring his hard work before frowning at the condition of their own yards.

The inner monologue of Harry's mind took on the voice of his Divination professor, Ms. Trelawney, saying 'My inner eye senses many men shall meet their doom tonight."

Harry's joy at the sight of a purple-faced Vernon redoing his own day's work in the living room and kitchen (it needed to be mopped again) was tempered by something that had been bothering Harry all week long.

"Why did Petunia get an owl when I haven't?"

Finishing his work Harry went to the back door, where he was handed a note, his dinner, and told to use the bathroom and go to bed.

Leaving his dinner in his room Harry took a shower and inspected his ribs. The bruising had spread out but was beginning to fade, which pleased Harry almost as much as the having the shower loosen the knots in his muscles from the days work. Opening the note he brought with him Harry saw that it was all in his aunt's hand writing.

_Set your alarm for 4:00 AM tomorrow morning. You will be going to the gym early with Dudley. Your uncle will be taking you. You will make breakfast._

_-Petunia_

Back in his room Harry took some pain pills and eyed his dinner suspiciously. It was a steak with mushrooms, and had leeks and potatoes au grutan on the side, and it was all in Vernon-sized proportions. To Harry it looked like Vernon would not be eating diner tonight.

The meal was also quite obviously burnt.

Chuckling at his aunt's antics Harry picked through his dinner looking for the parts that were less well done before gratefully climbing into bed.

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… Harry tried to turn his head away and screw his eyes shut. The statue forced his head around and from somewhere the severed hand of Wormtail forced his eyes open.

Harry screamed in horror, and rage. It went on for a while before tapering of into a tone of hurt and defeat.

Voldemort moved close to him, blocking the horror of the vision before him.

"Harry." Voldemort said beseechingly. "You can end-"

"…this by going with you down a dark alley so you can do me in the bum, Tommy-boy? I'm pretty sure that that was what you were going to say." Harry said.

Voldemort stood still in shock.

"Or were you hoping I'd do you in the bum?" Harry asked with a falsely hopeful look on his face.

Voldemort was still shocked.

"The same thing three nights in a row Tommy. That shows a real lack of imagination on your part. I think you need to work on your material.", Harry stated.

The sound of the ground again opening up before Harry got his attention, and looking up he saw an enraged Dark Lord looking at him, holding his wand with a green glowing tip pointed at him.

"All right! I get to go flying again!" Harry said mockingly.

Just as Voldemort's spell was being cast the Inferi next to him had its brains splattered all over the area. Surprised, Voldemort looked around himself to see who would dare such a thing.

Soundtrack Theme #10

Band: Manowar

Title: Sons of Odin

Album: Gods of War

"DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA!"

Eye's wide open the Dark Lord leaped into the air before turning a somersault and flying back up the hill. Where he had stood the Inferi had their bodies shredded before collapsing to the ground

Harry had the wind knocked out of him when he felt the statue behind him smashed over on its side, the arms trapping him falling way. Rolling out from under the statue Harry started to stand up before being shoved back face first behind cover.

"Stay down brother! You aren't wearing any armor and the company master would chastise me if I let his Champion get himself killed stupidly."

Harry looked at the dark green boot in front of his eyes and followed the line of the greaves up to the red-stripped kneepad. Pausing for a moment in disbelief he then continued up to look at the golden double-headed eagle adorning the chest of the standing, shaven headed man in power armor.

'What is going on here?' Harry wondered to himself. 'I was finally in control of my dream up until a second ago.'

The deafening roar of a tank's cannon drew Harry's eye away from the Marine sergeant. The green armored vehicle hammered away at targets further up the hill, providing cover for the squads taking cover behind the headstones in the cemetery.

Harry turned back to the sergeant when he heard modulated voices coming from a radio on his armor. The sergeant put his hand to his ear trying to hear something through the interference and background chatter coming from his ear-bead.

A large craft screamed overhead causing Harry to hug the ground even more than he had been already.

" hissing sergeant! hisshisshiss for reinforcements are on the way!"

The sergeant didn't get to respond as a trio of Death Eaters apparated next to the Predator tank. They immediately began casting blasting and fire hexes at the armored behemoth, only to have two of their number promptly blown apart by the heavy bolter mounted on that sides' sponson.

One of the Death Eaters must have gotten lucky because the next blasting hex touched off an explosion that, while killing the last Death Eater, split open the armor and sent the turret rocketing through the air flipping end over end. Most of the Marines were knocked to the ground but quickly began picking themselves up and returning to battle.

"Incoming!" shouted a Marine from another nearby squad as a large body of faceless Inferi came shambling down the hill. The Marines began blasting away at the enemy indiscriminately seeing as they couldn't miss the seemingly numberless hoard.

The sergeant cocked the slide on his bolt pistol and began revving up his chainsword as he rallied his squad. The sound had a calming affect on Harry while the squad tensed in anticipation of the coming hand-to-hand fight.

"Champion! You will need these. Arm yourself!", said a Marine to Harry while handing him a large, heavy bundle.

'Must have crept up behind me', thought Harry as he unwrapped the parcel. Inside was a bolt pistol with two extra clips, a broadsword, and a tiny shield with a wrist strap. Harry quickly tied on the belt and shield, working the action on the heavy pistol like he had seen the sergeant do to make sure it was loaded and ready for action

Several Inferi reach their line and some began to climb around and over the gravestones to get at the squad. Their efforts were in vain, as the first one who was leaping towards the sergeant was plucked from the air by a stream of solid slugs.

"BUURRRRRAAAAAP!"

Their reinforcements had arrived in the form of an armored behemoth. Standing at twice the height of a Marine on two thick legs the squat and blocky form of the Space Marine Dreadnaught was a welcome sight to the Marines.

Planting its feet out wide the dreadnaught proceeded to pour a line of continuous fire through the Inferi cutting many of its targets in half along the way. With the tide turning the sergeant looked back at his men and knew it was time to counter-attack.

"For the Lion! Charge!" he pointed uphill with his sword.

The Marines took up their sergeant's call and drawing their huge, straight combat blades charged forth from cover into the flagging Inferi. The general advance plowed into the thinned undead horde with such ferocity that it continued to sweep up the hill while trampling the Inferi back into the earth from which they came.

This is where things started to go badly for the Marines as the Death Eaters now had good line of sight to their opponents who were charging uphill. Harry flinched when saw the Marine to the left and in front of him fall down face first after catching a Avada Kedavara in the chest.

Emboldened by the easy kills they were making the Death Eaters charged down the slope to meet their enemy up close. This was unwise, however, as their opponents halted their advance and began to pour much more telling fire in the form of bolter death back at them.

Harry tried to add his own fire to the mix but was thwarted by the weapons safety. A Marine carrying a heavy bolter (a weapon that two normal men would be needed to carry and operate) and with the ammo canister on his back halted next to him before unloading his deadly cargo into a group of Death Eaters charging at them from just a short distance away.

The heavy weapon operator was defeated, however, when another Death Eater apparated nearby and hit him with the fiendfyre curse.

Holstering his too-complicated weapon, Harry charged the Death Eater to avenge the dying Marine. Gripping his broadsword with both hands he ducked below his enemy's cutting curse to strike with and uppercut swing diagonally across his enemy's torso, which then fell dead to the ground.

Harry stood stunned looking at the Death Eater he had felled. He had killed a man on purpose for the first time. It felt… kind of good, actually.

A Death Eater who was creeping up behind him was snatched up in giant rotating hand of the Dreadnought, which held its enemy high overhead before crushing its torso with its giant fingers, then planted the soon to be corpse into its own shallow grave by smashing the body three feet into the ground.

"Brother Champion what is wrong? You act like you've never killed before!" said the sergeant from just in front of Harry, while busily unloading half a clip from the bolt pistol in his left hand into the face of a charging Death Eater. The sergeant was brought up short, however, when the partner of the man he had just killed Accio-ed away the pistol before charging him.

Leaping forward the sergeant's gauntleted fist smashed the back of the Death Eaters skull, causing him to sprawl forward head-first. The sergeant caught him with his sword, lifting him by the lower abdomen before engaging the chainblade and showering the ground with gore.

Motivated to get moving if only to get away from being showered with blood Harry ran up the hill. Spotting Voldemort he decided that it was now or never.

"Sergeant! Stop playing around and get your squad up here. The target is dead ahead.", yelled Harry while pointing at Voldemort with his blade.

Smiling while nodding his head the sergeant picked up his pistol from the ground and rallied his squad for another charge. Before they could get going again another Death Eater apparated next to the assault cannon mounted on the Dreadnought's right side and shot an Impedimantia jinx on the weapon. The weapon seized up and the shells in their barrels exploded, blasting back into the ammo bin attached to that arm and causing the entire machine to fly apart apart. Dreadnought pieces whipped around the area smashing down or killing combatants on both sides.

Running back down the hill to the injured sergeant Harry bent over him to see what he could do to help.

"Can't feel my legs.", sergeant bit out through gritted teeth. Pointing up the slope at his now detached back banner the sergeant said, " Take it up… the hill top. Teleport homer on it. … For commander's squad… push big red button."

Leaving his fallen comrade Harry graded his sword before running uphill. Pausing only to scoop up the banner he started to sprint up the slope while trying to duck and weave away from the incoming spellfire.

As the Dark Lord and his allies had only one target left Harry became a magnet for incoming fire. Blasting curses smashed the ground all around him, sending showers of dirt and wickedly-sharp stone fragments at him. A Death Eater tried to apparate into his path, but Harry ran him through the stomach as he passed by.

A few steps from the hill crest Harry was hit in the leg with a cutting curse and he began to fall.. Another faltering step garnered him another curse which shattered his shoulder bone, followed by a third that smashed through his lower back and came out through collar bone.

Pitching forward onto the ground Harry fought to lever the banner into an upright position while the Death Eaters tried to blast it and him to pieces. Depressing the big red button on the side of the t-shaped banner caused the metal aquila surmounting it to emit a steady hum.

Hearing the crunch of booted feet approaching his position Harry rolled over on his back and fought to draw his bolt pistol. Seeing the now obvious safety on the side of the trigger guard Harry flicked it off safe before putting a couple rounds into each enemy. At such short range he couldn't miss.

A pop behind him signaled another enemy's arrival, but before he could bring his weapon to bear he no longer had it.

"Accio!", cried the familiar voice of Voldemort.

The pistol jerking out of his had put pressure and his already hurt collar bone. Transferring his sword to his good arm Harry tried to use it as a crutch so he could stand up but fell back down when his injured leg gave out.

"Here, let me help you, Potter.", said Voldemort.

With a swish and a flick Harry hovered over the ground as if he were standing in the air. Voldemort smiled and another flick moved his sword so that it was wedged hilt-first into the ground at an angle with the tip pointed at Harry.

"You've had a good run, Potter, but you failed. I think it only fitting that the looser fall on his sword, don't you?"

As Harry fought to come up with a plan to get out of this or at least a snappy comeback to Voldemort's remarks he was interrupted by a change in the air. It seemed to hum with energy and the smell of ozone became heavy.

Finally, a weight pressed in on both Harry and Voldemort as a crack like a hundred wizards apparating in at one time announced the arrival of the teleporting Terminator Command Squad. Appearing between Harry and Voldemort, the wall of Marine in their massive suits of Tactical Dreadnought Armor shielded him from his enemy

Voldemort's reaction was to apparate away just as the squad unloaded with their heavy weaponry filling the space where he had been with several different form of fast moving and violent death.

As the spell holding him up failed Harry's fall was halted as the squads Apothecary caught him. Gently laying him on the ground the Marine began to tend to his wounds with the Narthicum built into the power fist on his right arm.

"Easy, brother. Your wounds are deep but not beyond my abilities so long as you lie still.", the apothecary said when Harry moved to get up. Spraying foam into the Harry's wounds the Marine gestured toward another Marine with his other hand, saying, "Let the Librarian take care of your Dark Lord."

Harry glanced in the direction the apothecary was pointing before doing a double-take. The Marine wearing the blue armor and psychic hood of the Chapter's corps of psykers (or witches) wielded a staff which he used to deflect a Killing Curse sent at him by the Dark Lord. Continuing to advance on his opponent made Voldemort reconsider his chances of victory and he, along with his remaining followers fled the scene.

Harry studied the Librarian as he trotted back up the hill to where he lay. A nimbus of light like a halo played about his head, evidence of why Space Marine Librarians were powerful wizards. Charged with maintaining the Chapter's records during peacetime and wielding their power in the best way they could to augment their units' combat ability in war, few could stand against their might.

As the Librarian approached Harry's breath caught at the sight of his familiar face. The lack of glasses and the buzz cut that tried to tame his wild hair could not hide from Harry the familiar shape of the jaw line or the color of the Marine's eyes.

"Son, are you okay?", asked the blue armored figure.

Harry sight began to go dark while the voices around him faded away.

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Harry awoke to the sound of voices and a light weight on his chest. With the details of his dream and the pain in his scar reaching his brain at the same time he sat up quickly to clutch at his scar.

"Wait, don't!"

"Aaaaaagh!"

"Emperor's Teeth!"

"My will is undone!"

The many voices Harry heard made him forget his scar and look around the room while reaching for his wand on the bedside table. Not seeing a soul he took a deep breath and placed his wand back on its stand.

'Maybe I'm just hearing things."

"Well, he looks like he has made a full recovery, sir.", said a voice from below his line of sight.

Looking down, Harry was meet with the strange sight of every model he had painted that morning standing unmoving on top the covers of his bed.

"Why… what? But how?!"

Harry was by now very creeped out. Thinking for a minute, Harry sighed, thinking that his godfather must have come by to visit him and decided to play a little prank on the 'godson who still played with toys'.

He had just started to relax again when the 'wrist' on the Dreadnought began to spin while its hand clenched and unclenched. Rotating to the side the little collection of tightly glued part began ambulating toward him.

"Are you all right son?" asked a voice from directly in front of him.

Harry looked down at his lap to see several heavy models in terminator armor stand up, including a blue one with a halo of light playing about his head in blue armor.

To say Harry fainted at this point would be both un-Gryffindor and unbecoming a Marine. Therefore, he actually passed out instead.

Modified (for the third time) 06/06/2008


	5. Chapter 5

Thought for the Day: If you cannot speak well of your master, be silent

Check Chapter #1 for copyright information and author's notes.

Soundtrack Theme #11

Band: Van Halen

Title: Jump

Album: 1984

Thought for the Day: If you cannot speak well of your master, be silent!

Chapter #5

"RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!"

Harry sat up in bed, his hand automatically slapping the alarm on his old clock. Glancing at the time (4:00AM), Harry cursed the early hour that robbed him of a restful sleep. Gently climbing out of his bed to keep from jarring his ribs he carefully stretched and look about his room.

Seeing his Space Marine miniatures grouped haphazardly on his desk brought the dreams of the last night to the fore. Rushing over to inspect the models he noticed that they were all on the desk, and more importantly not moving.

"Hoot!", came a complaint from the cage in the corner. A sleeping Hedgewig didn't appreciate being woken after just going to bed apparently. The fact that she was home and hadn't woken him instead of the alarm bothered Harry, as this meant that once again he had no new mail.

Harry rubbed his face with his hand and decided that he would write Dumbledore to ask for some a dreamless sleep potion. If he was going to get up 6 days a week at this time he certainly was going to need to get an uninterrupted sleep for at least half the time.

At this time the snooze alarm on the clock went off forcing Harry to move to shut the alarm off permanently. Harry went down the hall to use the bathroom and returned to the room to get dressed. As usual the clothes were his cousin's castoffs and he needed to do some quick folding to get them into a condition that would cause him to trip.

Taking one last look around before heading to the kitchen to fix breakfast he studied his models again. The cramped grouping that he took for being random before now resolved itself in his less sleep deprived mind.

The Marines where formed up so that if you looked down from above they were in the shape of a lion holding a sword.

Downstairs Harry had followed the instructions left on little yellow post-it notes by Petunia. A kettle of tea and a pot of coffee were in the process of being made, while bacon and eggs were frying in a pan. In the middle of flipping the eggs a bloodshot-eyed Vernon wandered in from the living room carrying a pillow, and sat down at the table. Almost having pity on his uncle Harry left a black cup of coffee and some Tylenol in front of him before attending to the frying pan.

Turning back to his uncle a few minutes later to ask how he wanted his eggs that Harry only received a soft snore in return. Sighing in annoyance Harry assumed the answer was over-easy and put Vernon's food on his plate. As he placed the plate in front of his uncle, Dudley stumbled down the steps the expression on his face similar to his father's. Moving to get his cousin and himself a cup of tea Harry was annoyed to see his uncle plant his face in his breakfast.

"Dudley, I think he'd appreciate it more if you woke him up instead of me."

Dudley glanced at his father a moment with widened eyes before replying "Nope, he'll keep. Besides I wanted to talk to you."

Harry nodded at this while hiding his surprise by still working the frying pan "How do you want your eggs?"

Dudley turned pale and shook his head. Realizing Harry wasn't looking at him he said, "No thanks, Harry. It's too early for me to eat right now. I'll just have some tea right now and you can take whatever is left of the bacon and put it on a piece of bread. Maybe I'll eat it on the ride there. Right now the thought of food is making me nauseated."

Silently agreeing with Dudley on this Harry put the remaining bacon on a slice of bread for each of them before starting to clean up. Placing the rest of the coffee in a thermos for Vernon and taking the tea off heat so Petunia could have it later, Harry began to trudge up to his room.

Realizing he forgot his sandwich he went back down. Dudley looked up from his cup of tea and said quietly "I stopped him from beating you."

"What?"

"I stopped my dad from beating you up after he knocked you out. He got a kick into your ribs before I dragged him back. He must have seen us fight and thought you were trying to hurt me.", Dudley explained.

"For once I _**was**_ trying to hurt you.", stated Harry.

"Oh, come on. I'm a heavyweight. Against anyone else in my weight division you wouldn't even last a minute in the ring. I was just playing with you.", was Dudley's comeback.

"Were you just playing with me when I sent you into the shrubs?" Harry asked sweetly.

"Well, you did remind me how not to fight a little guy like you. I just have to remember to use good footwork next time. Though I doubt there will be a next time as I told dad that our gym was looking for a fighter your age in your weight class and I wanted to see if you'd make a good candidate. That's why you're coming with me today to the gym. If they take you I doubt we'll spar very often from now on."

"What if I don't want to do this?", Harry asked.

"You'd probably still have to get up at this time to make us breakfast, and mom would have you doing chores all day. This way you get out of the house and can compete. There is a small money prize for the winner in these fights, and though it isn't much it's supposed to cover most of the costs of training."

Finally feeling hungry from the smell of bacon, Harry took a bite of his sandwich while leaning back against the counter. Thinking over what Dudley said Harry decided to ask Dudley some more questions. "What about all those chores I won't be doing because I'm training?"

"Well, because my coach really talked up my ability to dad, he's planning on betting on me in the office pool. Apparently some of the other dad's have their sons competing, though none of them are in my weight class. Were going to use the winnings to pay for a maid, a gardener, and keep some of it for when I go to college."

For a moment Harry had the mental image of several guys of Dudley's age and proportions punching and smacking each other with Smelting Sticks while a bunch of Vernon clones rooted for their favorite. The phrases 'not in my weight class' ended the amusing daydream while 'when I go to college', however, left Harry's brain reeling. 'Since when is Dudley excited about school?'

Shaking his head, Harry finished his sandwich and looked at the clock. "Dudley, you better wake up your dad if we want to get to the gym on time."

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Soundtrack Theme #12

Band: Dire Straits

Title: Industrial Disease

Album: Love Over Gold

After Vernon finished rushing around washing his face and getting ready for the coming day they all piled into his car and drove down to the gym. Arriving in an older, worn down part of town near the industrial area (not to mention Grunnings Drills sales office), the gym was an rectangular old wood and steel A-Frame structure with red brick walls. Harry grabbed Dudley's bag, and followed his uncle and cousin from the car into the building, and passing through the double doors was assaulted by a wave of heat and the smell of stale sweat. Crossing the polished wood floor the trio passed rows of free-weights and machines, most of which where already in use by young men of various ages.

Dudley stopped behind a middle-aged man with dark, close cropped hair and wearing cut-off shorts with a t-shift who was spotting for another young man using the bench press. Dudley cleared his throat to be noticed, but the man didn't turn around to face him.

"Mr. Dursley, what did I tell you about being on time?", asked the man.

"I'm five minutes early, sir.", Dudley stated.

"But you aren't dressed out yet. Now get changed and give me ten laps around the building outside for being late! I'll meet you there." A red-faced Dudley grabbed the bag from Harry and ran to do as the man said.

Irritated at the treatment of his son Vernon took a breath to calm himself before clearing his throat. Annoyed, the man spun on his heel ready to vent some spleen when he noticed which Dursley he was facing. "Ah, Vernon, for a second I thought your son had misunderstood my orders. What brings you in to talk with me?", said the man with forced cheerfulness.

"Good morning Mr. Reynolds. I have brought my nephew, Harry here, to be looked at for that light-weight fighter position you have open. He and Dudley sparred recently and Dudley thinks he might just be right for the spot." , Vernon said quickly, patting Harry on the head as he introduced him.

Mr. Reynolds eyes narrowed as he digested Vernon's words. To Harry the man seemed to grow in stature, and looking back at his uncle he could see that he was more than a little intimidated by his appearance. Harry didn't blame him as the man had a face similar in structure to his Potions Professor, Snape, only with a flattened nose, and he had the build that made him look like a distant relation to Hagrid.

"Dudley is no judge of skill, and he could have hurt this boy. What the hell was he doing sparring with this kid! He can't be a day over twelve!", Mr. Reynolds demanded.

"He's fifteen, sir! And all he did was hold the training targets for Dudley. Dudley said he had good reflexes.", Vernon quickly lied.

"He'd have to if he wanted to avoid getting hit.", said Reynolds. Looking carefully at Harry his eyes narrowed again as he looked at the shiner that was only now beginning to fade.

"Well, Vernon, he can take a hit at least. If you have all his papers to the effect that he's as old as you say he is we will consider him. I take it you'll be paying his way?"

Soundtrack Theme #13

Band: Vince Neil

Title: Sister of Pain

Album: Exposed

Vernon seemed to chock a little before nodding, and Mr. Reynolds pointed Harry toward an office down a hallway he hadn't noticed before. He passed a dressed out Dudley hurrying the other way to do his running. Knocking on the door midway down the hall on his right a feminine voice told him to enter. Walking into the room he was met with a pretty blond woman a few years older than himself. Harry felt like he knew her from somewhere, but gave up trying to guess after a moment.

"Hello. I take it that my uncle sent you here for your physical."

"Yep. What do I need to do?", Harry asked.

"I need you to go behind the screen over there", she said pointing at the curtain off are in the corner, "and change into this. I'm a trained nurse as well as an instructor here and we have to do a physical for insurance purposes before your cleared to fight."

"What are you looking for?", Harry inquired.

"Everything from hernias to a crooked back. We'll also check your weight to see what class of fighter you would best make and if you need to gain or loose any weight before your first match so you qualify."

After this the nurse had him change behind a screen while she started her paperwork for him. She asked for his name, and then allowed him to dress quietly. Harry was glad as he didn't want her to see the bruises on his ribs, though he was wondering how he was going to hide the pain when he started to work out that day.

Assuming they wanted to train him, of course.

Coming out from behind the screen Harry saw Ms. Edenton bend down to pick up her dropped stethoscope. Not only was Harry stunned by her natural beauty, but the fact that her thighs looked as big around as his torso and was all muscle to boot left him stunned.

"It's not polite to stare", she said with a look over her shoulder.

Harry blushed at being caught looking and tried to mumbled apologies and excuses when he heard her giggle. Finally he said, "I was just looking at your thigh. How did you get it so, well, big?"

Spinning around she faced him with only a few inches separating them. Harry was reminded of the look Mr. Reynolds gave his uncle just a few minutes before. "Are you saying I'm fat?", she demanded.

Harry began sputtering and backpedaling as she stalked towards him. When Harry's back hit the examining table he looked wildly around the room for somewhere to escape too.

"You're so easy to get worked up!", she said before breaking out in a side-splitting laugh. "It's going to be fun having you around here. You and Dudley both take things too seriously! Yes, I know my legs are well muscled. I work out a lot and do martial arts in my spare time. I'm hoping to open a dojo here at the gym as soon as I can convince my uncle to give me the space."

Harry didn't think he had much in common with Dudley, but decided he'd ask him about it later. Climbing on the table she started his exam.

"How much space do you need?", asked Harry.

"Hmm. With the sparring mats and additional work out equipment… I'd say pretty much all of it!", she said smiling.

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Ms. Edenton finished his physical, but not before commenting on his weight. She informed him that he would need to go on a diet to make weight, but that unlike his cousin he would be trying to gain weight instead of loosing it. She said she'd give him the diet specifics before he left.

Harry was annoyed when she confronted him on the bruised ribs. She asked him where they came from, but he wasn't sure how to tell her without getting himself into trouble with his family. He also didn't want to get his family into trouble given what Dumbledore had said concerning the protections around Privet Drive. He had to stay there to recharge the wards without which he would be a sitting duck for Death Eater attacks.

"You aren't planning on training in that, are you?", Ms. Edenton gestured at his cousins castoffs that he was trying to put back on. Harry looked down at his clothes and realized if he had to run any laps he'd be slowed not so much by his ribs as he would be by his clothes tripping him up. Giving her a helpless look he honestly told her, "there all I've got."

Sighing in frustration Ms. Edenton rummaged through her desk before locating a pair of red shorts. Tossing them to him she said, "Here, try these on. They should fit you just fine".

At first Harry was simply happy that he was wearing something that fit. However, one look at the mirror in the office made him change his mind. The tank-top was fine and the waist size and color of the shorts were okay but something brought him up short.

This was probably the fact that the shorts were _really_ short. They ended at about crotch length.

"Sorry, that's all I got.", she said, seeing the look on his face. "And I'll need them back at the end of the day."

Harry reluctantly nodded his thanks before heading out to meet Mr. Reynolds. Harry saw him and Dudley return from outside, his cousin already covered with sweat. Upon seeing him Mr. Reynolds was able to guess what was going on and seemed to try his best not to laugh at Harry.

Dudley, however, failed to hold on to his bearing and laugh long and hard. When he was finished Mr. Reynolds turned to him with a smile, saying, "Well, Dudley. It appears you caught your second wind already. Excellent! That is a great improvement over last week." Reaching over to a nearby wooden shelf Mr. Reynolds grabbed a jump rope and handed it to Dudley. "I suppose I've been going too light on you. Since you obviously aren't getting worked hard enough I want you to go out there and do ten more laps around the building while jumping rope."

Seeing the stunned look on Dudley's face he paused as if considering something. "The look on your face must mean you disagree with me. I suppose your right. Fifteen laps jumping rope around the building should be right for you." As Dudley's face paled Mr. Reynolds said "still not enough? Maybe twenty laps should be about right."

Dudley finally caught on and snatching the rope from his trainer's hand sprinted as fast as he could from the building. Mr. Reynolds mused aloud "I've never seen him run so fast before. Well, he's taken care of for the next two hours." Turning to consider Harry again he took him over to a clear mat and guided Harry through several stretches. When he was all limbered up he stated that Harry should be dressed out and stretched before presenting himself at 6:00 AM for his daily workouts if he wanted to compete or else he'd be running laps like Dudley.

"You need to bring a towel and workout clothes also. Unless you're going to get a tan soon my niece's shorts probably look better on her than you."

Harry sighed in frustration wondering how he was going to get out of telling Mr. Reynolds that his cousins cast-off were all he had. Well, aside from wizards robes that is.

Figuring Harry had had enough teasing he led him over to several weight machines. He tested the max weight Harry could lift, press, or curl on various machines, checking each muscle group in turn. The harsh test of Harry's ability did clue Mr. Reynolds in to Harry injury as several times he involuntarily clutched his side from the pain. It became even more obvious when the now aggravated injury made it impossible for him to raise his hands above his head to grab the lat bar on another weight machine

Giving up on figuring out Harry's baseline info, Mr. Reynolds grabbed and un-tucked Harry's t-shirt, getting a good look at his injury himself.

Pointing at it Mr. Reynolds asked Harry "Does this bother you?"

"No, sir."

A swift jab with two stiffened fingers into Harry's wound showed that he was lying.

Heaving a large sigh Mr. Reynolds stood up and turned to share a look with his niece, who had been watching them both for a while now.

"Uncle", she said, "the three of us need to talk."

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Vernon showed up at 3:00 PM to pick them up. Petunia had phoned to tell him he would have to take time off to do it as she 'was busy'. Annoyed at his wife again he parked his car and watched his tired but smiling son and nephew wave him over.

"Dad! Great news! Mr. Reynolds has agreed to train Harry. He said he needed to talk to you about paying for it. I think he's going to do it for a discount, maybe.", his son rushed to tell him.

Vernon grunted and spared a look at his nephew. Harry looked exhausted and his eyes appeared to be a little red from crying. Sneering at him for not being able to take a little pain in training Vernon walked quickly to Mr. Reynolds office. Not bothering to knock before entering he also didn't wait to be invited to sit before seating himself in the most comfortable chair not occupied by the gym owner.

Mr. Reynolds only replied by smiling and gesturing behind Vernon to the still open door. Vernon turned to see Ms. Edenton quietly close the door behind her before taking out a stick and muttering something that caused the edges if the door to glow.

"Wait! Your one of those freaks!", was all Vernon said before being smashed out of his chair by Mr. Reynolds fist.

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An hour later a pale, shaky, and sore Vernon emerge from the gym into the afternoon sun. He made his way to the car and said nothing to the waiting teens as he got in and quickly sped them all home. Upon arrival he ordered both of them to their rooms and immediately set of to find his wife.

A perplexed Dudley stood at the top of the stairs, the look on his face asking Harry if he knew what was going on.

"PETUNIA!", Vernon roared when he found her in the kitchen. "Why the hell didn't you tell me the freak's parents were murdered by insane butchers!"

Petunia's stunned reply was too quiet to make out as Harry firmly guided Dudley towards his room.

"Harry? What did you tell Mr. Reynolds? Why is dad mad? I though our trainer was just going to work something out with dad to pay for your training!"

Harry sat on his hand-me-down chair and gestured to Dudley to sit on his bed. Figuring he wouldn't get any answers to his questions while he stood Dudley sat down.

"Mr. Reynolds is a squib.", Harry explained gently.

"A squid?", Dudley asked, perplexed.

"No, a squib. He comes from a pureblood magical family, but he was born without the ability to do magic so had to train himself to live like a muggle – what you parents would call a normal, non-freaky person."

Dudley considered this. He had always looked up to his trainer and didn't want to think badly of him. Having him coming from a family of 'freaks' challenged his world view as Dudley knew Mr. Reynolds was a tough fighter. Rubbing his face he looked back at Harry and quietly asked what he thought their trainer had told his dad.

Harry explained that Mr. Reynolds younger sister's family had been killed by Death Eaters, the followers of Lord Voldemort who was the man that killed his own parents. Dudley started to spew the 'drunk driving car crash' excuse for Harry's parent's death when Harry cut him off.

"Mr. Reynolds sister did something to upset Voldemort, the Dark Lord. His followers broke into the house when she was making dinner for the family. They used the Imperious Curse, a spell that make the targeted person do whatever the caster wanted while allowing the victim to know what they were doing, on the father. They had him carve up his baby son with a butcher knife while they froze his wife and forced her to watch. Then they used the same curse to make the mother cook her son. Then they made them eat him. Then they tortured them, and then killed them."

Dudley sat open-mouthed with a look of horror on his face. Harry took the opportunity to press on with the story, saying, "Ms. Edenton is his niece, and now a fully trained witch. She is the daughter of the couple I just told you about, and the only reason she isn't dead is that she was with her uncle that night. They were on their way to her parent's house to have dinner when her uncle saw the Death Eaters break into the house. He reported to the Ministry of Magic the attack, but because he was a squib he was ignored. The Aurors, the magical version of police, didn't go to the home until an hour after the Death Eaters had already left, and they found what I just told you."

"He and his niece only have minimal contact with the magical world since she graduated Hogwarts at the end of my first year there. Mr. Reynolds keeps the pictures taken at the crime scene in a folder in his desk and looks at them every morning. He told me it keeps his anger 'fresh', but he does admit it makes him less of a morning person".

For once Dudley was speechless. He lay back on the bed in a manner reminiscent of his cousin while studying the ceiling. He spent about an hour or two in silence digesting what Harry told him, ignoring the shouts of his parents arguing with each other downstairs while the sun slowly set and the room took on a reddish hue.. Finally he sat back up and leaned forward towards Harry.

"So, Harry." Dudley began.

"Yes Dudley?

"You say Ms. Edenton is a witch?"

"That's what she said, and the way she used her wand proved it. Why, do you think she is a freak?", Harry asked defensively.

"No, I just always thought there was something magical about what was in her shorts.", Dudley deadpanned.

Now it was Harry's turn to look stunned.

"Considering you're a wizard I don't know how you didn't make them work for you today when you wore them, though. Maybe it's just her.", Dudley continued.

Harry just frowned while Dudley had a good laugh at his expense. Jumping up, Dudley began to walk out of the room, but stopped as he saw the painted and assembled Space Marines on Harry's desk.

"Hey, I forgot I had these. Did you paint them yourself?"

Harry hesitantly said yes and explained how he found them while cleaning the room. Dudley inspected the paint jobs and admired the fast, clean work.

"These look so much better than the Orks I painted up. Do you know how to play? Our gaming club needs another player so we can start a campaign!"

At Harry's stunned look Dudley proceeded to talk long into the night about his friends in the game club, going so far as to bring in his miniatures to show Harry. This brought on a painting and model conversion session that stopped only when an extremely tired Petunia came up to tell the both of them that it was after midnight and time to go to bed.

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"But you aren't dead!" Harry cried out. He found himself being backed up toward the headstone of Voldemort's father by the press of the corpses now surrounding him. Continuing to back up so he could face the even now enlarging crowd of Inferi he found himself tripping over something. While trying to crawl back to his feet he came face to face with his godfather, Sirius. His godfather didn't great him with words of doom, however, as it became quickly apparent that he was actually still alive. He was just sitting there, though. His mouth hanging open and his eyes blank.

Looking down Harry saw that Sirius held something in his hands in. A moment later an electric hum filled the air as the neon sign in his hands read 'VACANCY' while a darkened part that said 'NO' remained unlit.

Looking back up at his godfather's face Harry could see that, while still glassy-eyed, he was smiling.

Around he and the Dark Lord dozens of previously hidden armored figures began to laugh, one of which Harry recognized. Looking to the side, both Harry and Voldemort saw the same blue terminator armored Space Marine Librarian as before laughing long and hard.

Growling in frustration Voldemort apparated away. Shortly thereafter the dream faded to black while the Harry heard voices congratulating each other on a job well done.

Rolling over in his slumber Harry failed look at his nightstand. If he had he would have seen the Terminator Librarian model and his bodyguard squad standing silent, solemn vigil over him, guarding his dreams.

Published on: 06/17/2008


	6. Chapter 6

See end of Chapter #1 for main author's notes.

Thought for the Day: Reason begets doubt, doubt begets Heresy.

Chapter #6

Harry's alarm clock read 6:00AM when he opened his eyes. Happy that he had gotten up in time to fix his family their morning meal as usual during his summer vacation Harry sat up and began to stretch.

Harry's sore ribs brought him up short.

Then the fact that he should have got up at 4:00AM hit him. Hard.

Running down the stairs he realized that that he was the only person in the house that was awake. Looking out the window he saw that his uncle's car was gone.

'Damn! He left without us! What was Vernon thinking?'

Running back up the steps he rushed into Dudley's room. Pounding on his cousin's bed and yelling at him to get up or else Mr. Reynolds was going to have them running laps until next week Harry ran to his aunt's room and began pounding on her door.

"Potter! In the name of God if you don't stop that racket right now I'll string you up and not even Dumbledore will be able to stop me!", He aunt Petunia screamed from the bed. Backing away from the door Harry waited by the door for his aunt to open it while a confused Dudley soon joined him. Finally the sleep-deprived face of Petunia Dursley stuck through the crack in the door and asked sharply "What!".

"We need you to take us to the gym now! We're already two hours late!", said Harry, his voice breaking into a higher octave thanks to vocal cords that were still maturing.

"You two aren't going today. We have today and the next two days off from that madness at the gym while your 'coach' cools off from wanting to kill your uncle!" Petunia practically screamed.

"Why?", asked Harry.

"Because you complained to them how we treated you! They're fre- they're just like you, and even though we've given you the best of everything despite what you are, now we have to go into debt buying you new clothes and food! Your taking food out of my little Duddy-kins mouth so we can satisfy you!".

As Petunia started to break down Harry decided he'd had enough being her emotional punching bag and headed down to make everyone some tea. After the water had been brought to a boil and Harry had left the tea to step he heard his aunt and cousin come down the stairs. He could hear Dudley gently trying to explain that his cousin couldn't box while wearing his old pants and shirts and that the coach was right to ask for a new wardrobe.

Petunia addressed Harry directly, saying "I've been 'ordered' to see to it that not only do you have proper workout attire but also that you have several pairs of every-day wear, shoes, undergarments, a work-out bag, and… hell he gave my Vernon a whole list! He had his niece (another freak like you!) give me your measurements and told me that I had to bring the clothes and receipts to him today or else he isn't training either of you two. And then he'd turn us in to child welfare!" Petunia began to sob.

His heart rather lacking any sympathy for his aunt and uncle's plight, Harry poured all three of them a cup of tea, and plunking one of them in front of his dejected aunt and handing the other to Dudley he proceeded to head back towards the stairs.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to be seen in public with the likes of you! I have your measurements, so I'm only taking Dudley to help pick out the clothes." Petunia snarled

Harry looked back at Dudley, and gesturing with his open hand palm down so as to make a like just below the knees Harry said, "This is the length my shorts had better be." Seeing Dudley's smile Harry quickly added "and no pink!".

Deciding that he was well and truly wide-awake Harry made use of the bathroom before getting dressed for hopefully the last time in his cousin's clothes. Sitting down at his desk Harry grabbed his Charms essay. Noting a few simple spelling errors and modifying a few sentences to read a little more clearer took only a short while, and by the time 8:00AM rolled around Harry had finished re-writing his essay with only a minor hand cramp.

Stomach grumbling Harry headed down the stairs to make himself some toast. On his way down he saw his aunt and Dudley heading towards the car. With his snack then completed Harry went back upstairs to begin his next assignment. Realizing that he had a choice between Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and History of Magic, Harry decided to do Prof. McGonagall's Transfiguration report first.

Harry hit a snag almost immediately, however. 'Explain how magic can be used to generate a particular outcome in the Schrödinger's Cat Experiment after it has started without directly observing the cat or removing the poison. Use the attached passage from Dr. Stephen Hawking's book 'A Brief History of Time'.' Harry noted that this was an assignment that was combined with several other classes. Students only in Transfiguration had to write two feet on a possible Transfiguration spell that would do the job. Students in Ancient Runes and Arithamancy had to prove their solution by showing their work for using a possible spell and/or rune combination to make a solution with or without a spell, while those in Divination compared different methods of prognostication in order to conclude which would be best to used in this situation. Finally, students in Muggle Studies were required to write about why muggles where inherently cruel beings who hated animals (especially cats), while those students had to explain to Prof. Binns exactly just who this 'Hawking fellow' was.

Mildly annoyed at this Harry looked at the other possible assignment choices. Here he found that once again his instructors had banded together in the name of making his life miserable (though he figured that it was Prof. Snape who was really making things difficult by choosing the assignment length).

"Research and write three feet each on two flora and two fauna species, one of each being magical while the other not. In your paper discuss their habitat, care and feeding. Also you must list all possible potions in which their body parts can be rendered down for use in."

Harry decided that the fauna for his second report would be a cat and a kneazle, and that for 'natural habitat' the answer would be 'according to Schrödinger', in a box with a vial of poison!'

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Soundtrack Theme #14

Artist: Jeremey Soule

Title: Track #8: Sorcery and Might

Album: Dawn of War Soundtrack

Three hours of annoyance later Harry had the report for Profs. Hagrid, Snape, and Sprout completed and in final copy form. Depending on who was grading it (meaning Snape) he might get dinged for writing about two animals that were almost exactly the same type of creature, but he figured knowing everything he could about cats would help him with his other assignment from McGonagall. Shaking out his hand Harry went downstairs to make a non-cheese sandwich for lunch.

Returning to his room a little later Harry decided another break from studying was in order. Grabbing a random book from his pile of G.W. stuff Harry sat down to read "Codex: Chaos Marines" for a short while. Midway through reading this book about the plethora of disloyal Space Marines who were insane, deranged and monomaniacal deamon worshiping sociopaths Harry came across the article dealing with one of the main antagonists of the Imperium. This individual was a leader unit called Fabius Bile and embodied the 'mad scientist' aspect of the Chaos Marines. He could (for price) genetically modify some or all of the Chaos Marines in the army he accompanied/led to make them much tougher, stronger, and faster than the 'Average' Marine. The down side of this was the Chaos Marine player ran a thirty-three percent chance that some or all of the Marines in each affected squad would be killed when they tested at the beginning of the game to see if any squad member was gripped with madness or pain and lash out at his brothers.

A quote attributed to Fabius Bile caught Harry's attention. _'If a man dedicates his life to good deeds and the welfare of others, he will die unthanked and unremembered. If he exercises his genius bringing misery and death to billions, his name will echo down through the millennia for a hundred lifetimes. Infamy is always preferable to ignominy'_

"Reminds me of a certain Dark Lord.", Harry mused to himself. There was a kernel of truth to this quotation, though. Going over in his mind the little of his History of Magic classes he paid attention to he noted that most of the time was spent reviewing the actions of Dark Wizards or Goblin Rebellion leaders. Usually the fighters on the side of Light were barely mentioned. In fact, aside from Merlin and three of the four Founders of Hogwarts few if any individuals were ever named as 'the Good Guys'. Instead the 'Ministry of Magic' took credit for the ultimate victory that eventually occurred over the forces of evil. Wondering if this was perhaps intentional on the part of a Ministry trying to re-write history to show themselves in a more favorable light than the gross incompetents that they probably were, Harry could understand his natural dislike for the subject of History and the Ministry in particular.

Hell his parents' were known as the 'Parents of the Boy-Who-Lived' rather than a couple who fought the Dark with all their might and who's actions were instrumental in the defeat of Voldemort.

"I must not _doubt_ in the power of good!", Harry admonished himself. The teachings of the Dark were seductive, driving even good men to doubt. The will-sapping power of doubt was probably the reason weak-willed people like Peter Pettigrew gave their loyalty to men like Voldemort.

Still, Harry always had hated it when he was being fed a line and in the past had thought himself good at spotting when someone was trying to do just that. Looking back at the school year he had just completed he found that just like everyone else he had missed many signs and warnings concerning Voldemort and the false 'Moody' that was posing as the man that was supposed to be his DADA professor.

In truth, Harry realized that much had gotten past him in his last several years studying at Hogwarts. 'Constant Vigilance' was all fine and good, but at some point a person also has to learn when to make the mental connections necessary to recognize the hidden threat which, like that traitorous animagus Wormtail, could hide in plain sight.

Harry turned back to the book in his hands. Looking at the eyes on the charcoal and pencil drawing of the Chaos leader injecting the petrified body of a captured Imperial Guards with some, undoubtedly foul chemical concoction gave Harry pause. The eyes were what really drew the parallels as far as Harry was concerned. The world's current Dark Lord might not wear power armor or a robe made from the flayed skin of his enemies, but the madness in his visage and the petrifying terror he generated in those he captured matched that of the figure drawn in the book.

Then again, Fabius Bile still had a nose and long sideburns on his mostly bald head so the analogy could only be taken so far.

Finding that he was no longer in the mood to read a book about the deranged, Harry turned back to look at the reading material for his Transfiguration/Divination report before also tossing that to the side in disgust. Giving up on homework for now Harry began looking for other things to do and settled on trying one last time to contact his friends. In light of the increased danger posed by Voldemort, Harry thought that perhaps Hedwig's letter deliveries had been blocked by new wards being set up around his friends' houses.

Soundtrack Theme #15

Artist: Jeremy Soule

Title: Track #10: Urban Wasteland

Album: Dawn of War Soundtrack

"But who would put up wards around the Granger's home. If Fudge's reaction were anything to go by the Ministry won't be gearing up for war. And if the wards were blocking Hedwig then why would she be returning without the letters I sent with her?"

Logical arguments tended to fly in the face of magic in general so for this reason Harry decided to do things the muggle way. A quick trip downstairs netted him several envelopes and postage stamps. A much more time-consuming dig through his school trunk helped him locate Hermione's address and a letter the Weasley had sent him muggle style many years ago so that he had their address also.

Harry quickly rewrote the letters that he had sent to his friends previously including the ones meant for Ginny. Then, because he never wanted to waste his time like that ever again he proceeded to recopy the letters just in case something else mysterious happened to the new ones.

A short walk out of the house down to a mailbox (Harry wasn't about to put anything in the Dursley's mailbox with the possibility of them opening his mail) and Harry was once again without any major tasks to do. The outside sky was overcast with dark clouds threatening a summer thunderstorm. Between the humid heat that had built up in the middle of the afternoon and the fact that he needed to rest his ribs made returning to the cool confines of his room the most preferable option.

Harry had just made it back into his room when he heard the sound of the front door of the house slamming open and the complaints of Dudley that he was hungry fro dinner already. Realizing that he'd be forced to help unload the car regardless of anyone's orders concerning his ribs Harry hurried back down the stairs.

Dudley stopped him with a simple "We got it already" as Harry made his way to the front door. Turning to look at his cousin he noted that at least thirty bags from five stores hung from every limb.

Dudley smiled at his cousin and asked "Aren't I strong, Harry. My work at the gym is paying off." At this point he overbalanced but thankfully landed on the couch. Shrugging out of the suddenly-to-heavy-to-lift load Dudley began passing him the bags with his new clothes while his mother entered the kitchen to start dinner.

Dudley explained what was in each bag as he handed them to him. "Harry, these are your pants and shirts for every-day wear. This bag here has your shirts for the gym." Reaching into the last bag that he had yet to give Harry, Dudley pulled out something pink. "And these are you gym shorts." Dudley stretched the elastic before taking aim and fired them at Harry's head. Unable to duck due to the heavy load he now held Harry caught the extremely short pink ladies shorts with his face.

"Actually, mom got those to replace the ones you borrowed from Ms. Edenton. She figured that even if you were both magical she probable still figured she'd see he shorts as infected with boy-germs or something.", Dudley explained.

"Knowing your mom and how much she likes us 'special' people you had to sneak these in with the purchases just so you could embarrass me with them."

Dudley just grinned while replying, "Well, a guy's got to have a little fun on a shopping trip. Otherwise he'll go nuts."

Harry sighed at his cousin's antics and took the parcels back to his room. Stepping back out into the hallway he saw Dudley carrying some packages into his room. A few minutes later Dudley returned with several boxes of Games Workshop products and a couple books.

"Hey, Harry. Can I store this stuff in here?", Dudley asked.

"Sure.", Harry answered, surprised that Dudley would be kind enough to ask first.

"Good, because some of this is for your army.", Dudley stated while lifting several of the boxes up so Harry could briefly see what they were before dropping them on his desk.

"Where'd you get this?", Harry asked him.

"Well, after the third hour of clothes shopping I mutinied. Mom dropped me off at the Games Workshop store at Epsom. Unfortunately for her she let me barrow a credit card and I used it."

Looking back at Harry while he left the room Dudley said, "Come by my room in a few and we'll play a game with our armies. Bring your squads and some of my old, broken things so we will have some terrain."

Nodding his head in agreement Harry turned to study the new boxes and consider what he was going to do with them.

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An hour and a half later saw Harry scratching his head. Because he had never gone to the trouble of writing an official 'army list' which detailed what equipment his units carried and how many points the army was worth in total, Dudley had just let him use every Space Marine he had.

Even though Dudley informed him that he now out-massed his Ork Army by a sizable amount points-wise, Dudley still kicked his butt. Trying to grasp the rules of how to move and attack with his units turned out to be the easy part. The difficulty of the game came from knowing _when_ to move and _what_ to attack with his units while anticipating what his opponent would do in response, all the while trying to keep in mind the objectives for the mission he was fighting.

"Harry, this is a 'Cleanse' mission", said Dudley while pointing at the mission objective in the rulebook. "Since where playing this with 'Alpha' level rules that means that we only win by meeting mission objective, not by annihilating your opponents units like when the 'victory points' rule is in effect during Gamma and Omega level play. You need to get a unit that hasn't suffered fifty percent casualties in as many quarters of our table

Dudley tried to help him out with hints like 'I wouldn't move my infantry squad within charge range of that huge Boyz mob if I were you, they're axes will chop right thru your armor next turn if you do', and 'Maybe you should concentrate your anti-tank weapons on this unit over here rather than that one over there'. Despite the heavy losses Dudley's Orks took as a result of these helpful hints, by the end of the game all Harry's units besides his Librarian with Terminator Bodyguard where either fleeing the battlefield or completely wiped out.

The icing on the cake came in the form of said Librarian's final hand to hand fight of the game. Facing off against the last of the Ork army's Gretchin (the little green 'House Elves' of the Warhammer 40,000 universe), Dudley consulted a chart in the rulebook and announced that the only way Harry's character would fail to hit (and immediately annihilate) his enemy was by roll a one on every six-sided die he would get to roll.

The result was a handful of dice all coming up ones.

Harry and Dudley both broke down laughing at that. With the end of the game Dudley picked up the Gretchin and asked Harry to repaint and convert it in such a way as to capture its true greatness (or luck, as it were).

"Besides", Dudley admitted, "you do better paint jobs than me. In exchange I'll show you how to make an army list that won't get it's ass handed to it every game!"

Readily agreeing to this Harry put the model in his room before returning with parchment and his army's codex. Sitting at Dudley's desk Harry looked like a student ready to take notes from his professor.

"Now then", Dudley began in his best Vernon Dursley voice," having lascannons in every infantry squad is a good idea when going up against armies with a lot of tanks in it, like the Imperial Guard. But against armies with lightly-armored but hard hitting infantry, like Orks or Tyranids…"

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After a hearty dinner (which for a change) left Harry stuffed and Dudley still slightly hungry, Harry returned to his room to do his homework.

Not that this was assigned by any instructor at Hogworts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No! This was assigned by Dudley Dursley himself!

'Ronald Weasley has Quiditch', Harry mused, 'Dudley has Warhammer 40,000.'

Harry's latest assignment was to 'come up with several army lists at various point levels which would counter each of the playable factions in WH40K, including another Space Marine army, using the models he already had and those he had just been given.'

"And what are point limits again?", Harry asked Dudley.

"Point limits agreed upon by players allow for 'balance' in a game. Two players that want to play against each other on a fairly even footing choose a points limit and them try to take units and upgrades worth a points value less than or equal two that number. If a strong player wanted to give a weak player a handicap so that the game would still be challenging for both of them he might spot his opponent some points value above his own. Kind of like when golfers spot their opponent a couple strokes or a chess master takes away a rook or a queen."

"Okay.", said Harry. "When do I need to have these lists done by?"

"Well, Mike and the other boys want to get a campaign going, but some of them are _still_ painting up their armies. I'd say make these lists by this time next week, and make them for values between five hundred and two thousand points - in increments of two hundred and fifty points, and built for Alpha, Gamma, and Omega level play. Use the other armies' Codices as a guide. Here, take these White Dwarf magazines."

"OOOffff!", Harry grunted.

"They contain battle reports complete with army lists and strategies you can use to counter your enemy's units. And these printout here in this 66mm binder.." "Uuuffhh!"" are army lists posted on various forums and peoples' responses to them after either analyzing them in detail or simple taking a look at them and saying 'it sucks!'"

On a roll, Dudley continued with "this book here," "Whack", "is Sun Tzu's 'Art of War'. You really need to read that to be any good at all. There's a lot of common sense stuff in there."

"Oh, and here's a letter mom said came in the mail for you.", said Dudley, placing the last item on to of the stack that was sorely testing his lifting ability.

Rushing back to his room Harry tilted the pile so that the letter landed on his desk and dumped his new library on his bed. Turning back to the letter and fearing that it might be a portkey he used his Exacto Knife and a pair of tweezers to open it before dumping the contents on the bed. Inside he found a note, some letters, several Daily prophet newspapers, and some Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products.

Harry started with the short note. In scribbled handwriting was written a short missive.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this then my owl, Pig, manage to deliver this letter to the mailbox across the street my family's hiding place. Please don't panic! Hermione says that you have a 'saving people thing', and I want you to know that we are not in any immediate danger right now._

_My family, myself, Hermione, Prof. Lupin and Snuffles are together at a secure location. I can't say where we are as it is magically protected to the point that I literally don't know where we are. The point is that we are safe._

_Many of the people we know, including some of our teachers and some Ministry Aurors floo in about every other evening. This usually happens around the time that Dumbledore (who set up this safe place) calls a meeting which my brothers, Hermione and I are not allowed to attend. From the little bit we've overheard from the adults talking to each other outside of their meeting we think that they're part of a group call the 'Order', and that Dumbledore is the leader._

_The reason I am writing to you like this, and that I'm the only one that has written to you at all this summer assuming you are reading this, is because I overheard Prof. Lupin talking to Snuffles. They were arguing quite loudly about several things, and one of them was that the Order has posted a guard to watch over you at all times and all letters by owl going into or coming out of your house are being intercepted by that guard._

_I can understand why Dumbledore might block incoming mail considering that someone can charm a letter into a portkey, but why would he block outgoing mail? What's even fishier is that Dumbledore made us promise to abide by 'your' rules. He told us when we got here that you were 'distraught', and that you had asked him to tell us that you would owl us when you were ready to start talking to us again. He also told us that if that happened we were to inform him about it and not tell you where we were or what was going on._

_Since I've overheard Prof. Lupin and Snuffles conversation I have only told the twins about it. Unlike Ron they can keep a secret real well, and while I love her like a sister I'd never tell Hermione because I'm afraid she'd go to someone in authority and it would get back to Dumbledore. Then the adults would start watching all our mail and we wouldn't have any peace._

_What's really irritating is that we can owl anyone else we know, just not you. Because of this, Hermione has been driving my brother nuts writing to Victor Krum. I think I'm going to lock them in a room together if this kind of thing keeps up just to spare the rest of us the pain of listening to them argue._

_Since your cut off from the magical world with those muggles I figure I'd give you a glimpse of it. Thinking about it, however, I really think that shouldn't have included the newspaper. Minister Fudge has been working hard to make you and Dumbledore look bad, and the Prophet has gotten so bad that mom won't let us read it after the adult are done with it. I had to rescue these to papers from the rubbish bin (sorry if they've got any food on them)._

_Anyway, I'll try to send you a letter every week with any newspapers I can fish out of the garbage (though I have to agree with mom that that is were they should probably stay). I've included copies of the last few letters I've sent you._

_Please remember to keep writing to us as if you don't know what is going on with the mail. You can let the letters taper off after a while, but for now don't do anything that will tip the Order of to what you know, and don't try to send a letter back here the muggle way. The address I used is bogus and will never reach us here._

_Sorry about the one-way communication._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

As happy as he was with Ginny's efforts Harry was angered by the news. The fact that it was Ginny and not his two closest friends Ron and Hermione that had written him was irritating. Once again the two he trusted most had failed in their loyalty to him, with the 'smartest witch of her year' and 'the loyalist friend' showing a distinct lack of initiative compared to someone younger.

Harry reserved most of his ire for Dumbledore, however. The isolation that he was subjecting him to was putting a lot of strain on him. He had gotten mad at his friends over something that really wasn't their fault, and he was being left in the dark about what was going on in the magical world.

Irritated, Harry moved Ginny's other letter to the side in favor of the several days old Daily Prophet newspapers. The first headline read "MINISTER SAYS HARRY POTTER IS THE-BOY-WHO-CRIED-WEREWOLF!", with a picture of Minister Fudge's smiling face below the headline answering questions at a press conference. Further reading did not improve Harry opinion of whatever common sense magical Britain had. The paper was covered with articles detailing 'leaks from sources at St. Mungo's mental ward' stating that he and Prof. Dumbledore were undergoing treatment for various mental disorders.

Thoroughly pissed at the world, Harry looked around the room for a distraction. Focusing on the mountain of WH40K data, the new models he needed to paint, and his 'regular' homework Harry's eyes finally rested on the Gretchin model that Dudley had asked him to 'do up right'.

"It's always the little things that trip us up.", Harry sighed while picking up the model that looked like a green-skinned version of Dobby, his favorite house elf.

Published on: 06/18/2008


	7. Chapter 7

See end of Chapter #1 for main author's notes.

Thought for the Day: Only the Insane Prosper.

Chapter #7

Soundtrack Theme #15

Artist: Bill Conti

Title: Gonna Fly Now

Album: Rocky

"Come on Harry! You owe me one more rep!"

Teeth clenching with effort Harry brought the weight down to his chest one last time before exploding with effort to suspend it above him. Finally, he gently set it back on the rest over his head sat up on the bench.

"Seventy kilos Harry. That's pretty good but you've got a way to go." Mr. Reynolds said while helping Harry take off the weights.

"You've got some stamina, but you lack power. In boxing you don't push your opponent around, you punch him. That means you got to smash him into submission, and the sooner you can do it the less time he has to do the same to you."

With the lighter weights on the bar Harry began to do his latest set. This time he had less weight, but more reps to go through. At first Harry had a much easier time lifting these weights, but by the time he got to his last rep the fatigue from all the reps before caught up to him and he was struggling again. His left arm especially was having trouble with keeping up with the work his right was doing, causing the load to become unbalanced.

"Come on, Harry! This is where the stamina comes in! Are you going to let these stupid hunks of metal beat you?", his coach demanded to encourage him.

With a final burst of strength Harry completed his set and replaced the bar back onto the cradle. Quickly getting back up he helped the coach unload the bar.

"Alright, Harry. You've done well today. How are your ribs?"

"Fine."

"If they were killing you I don't suppose you'd tell me. Well, go run six laps around the building and I'll be out in a couple minutes to see if you dropped dead from a punctured lung. Anyway, it should be about time for you to go home then and you can do your cool-downs and stretches. Don't let Vernon try to rush you; I'm holding Dudley here so you'll have the time to cool down properly like I showed you. Good practice and we'll start sparring next week."

Harry smiled at this before running outside to do as he was told. With a light heart he began sprinting around the building as fast as he could without slipping on the wet concrete sidewalk. His senses were alive, taking in details of his surroundings in a manner not unlike when he flew on his broom during Quidditch. The seemingly uniform grey of the urban industrial area differentiated itself into a hundred different shades to match the threatening clouds above.

Harry pushed himself, trying to complete his six laps before his coach came out to check on him, but started to flag midway through the fifth lap with a stitch in his side.

"Come on Harry! Last fifty meters and you can pack it in!", the coach yelled.

After a last burst of speed Harry reached his coach who began jogging with him around the building. After their first circuit his coach told him, "That was a good run, Harry. Big improvement over last week. Too bad you're at Hogwarts and all we're training you to do is boxing. We could make you a cross country or track'n field star with your build. When I'm done you'll just need a little more practice to enter you into a Decathlon. In the mean time Harry you're going to need to focus on boxing. You and Dudley have your first fight next Friday and we really haven't done much sparring yet. Your bag work is pretty good but your going to be really sore by the time Friday rolls around and because we're short on time I need you and Dudley to do your running and calisthenics on your own time. Don't sit on your asses this weekend, or else you'll regret it on Monday."

With grunting being the only response he could give Harry continued with his cool-down exercises. Slowing his jogging down on his last lap he and Mr. Reynolds went back inside and Harry began to stretch out his muscles before hitting the locker room to shower and change.

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A short, quiet ride found the three men home around five in the afternoon. Pulling up in the driveway Harry saw a strange man mowing their lawn while another trimmed the hedges. A small truck and trailer was parked along the frontage of the house and had a sign advertising a lawn service.

Harry followed Mr. Dursley and his son out of the car and noted that the man didn't say a word to the yard men. When he reached the door he was surprised that it opened before he could reach the knob.

"Hello, sir! Your wife and I are glad to welcome you home today!", said a pretty young blond woman in her twenties that Harry had never met before. Her accent was difficult to place, but it reminded Harry of Victor Krum, the star Quidditch Seeker for Bulgaria so he figured she was from Eastern Europe.

"Here is your mail, sir!", she said handing Mr. Dursley a wad of bills as he began to walk past her with a grunt of annoyance at her perky attitude.

"This is for you, young sir!", she said handing Dudley a letter, before turning to Harry and saying "And this, young sir, is for you".

Harry glanced at the envelope, which said that it was from Mr. & Mrs. Granger. Stunned that they were the people that had written to him he looked back at the woman. "Who are you?" he asked her.

Soundtrack Theme #16

Artist: Jethro Tull

Title: Like a Tall Thin Girl

Album: Catfish Rising

"I'm the new maid the Dursley's hired. My name is Anna." the too-perky lady said. "I help do cleaning and cooking at house, but I go home at night to family. What is your name?".

Dudley took this moment to introduce himself to her before giving her a sly look and saying, "Your pretty cute. Do you have a younger sister?"

The apparently genuine smile Anna had plastered to her face vanished and Dudley's mail was grabbed out of his hand so that Anna could beat him over the head with it. When Dudley began to race up the stairs Ana decided to not give chase.

Feeling that he needed to say something on his cousin's behalf Harry clear his throat before saying, "I'm sorry about my cousin. He goes to an all boys' boarding school and doesn't know how to act around ladies."

Anna turned to face Harry. The glower she had while watching Dudley had escaped her wrath by running up the stairs softening somewhat as she looked at him and heard his words. Finally she grinned as she handed him Dudley's letter before saying "Tell Dudley I have a sister a year younger than him. She is the same tallness..." she said while gesturing to herself "as me. Her dresses are small than me.", she said putting her hands above her hips before bringing them in front of her and closer together, indicating a smaller waistline than herself. "But she has much more here.", she frowned as her hand moved up her sides before cupping her... attributes.

Harry's eyes where mesmerized for a moment before he shook his head and tried to focus back on Anna's face. He was surprised that Anna was smiling at him as she seemed flattered that she had this effect on him. His blood ran cold as she continued, however, saying, "And if he ever asks me again about her I will tear off his gonads and serve them to him for dinner!"

Sprinting up the stairs Harry missed Anna chuckling to herself as she smiled in what was apparently her usual manner and headed back into the kitchen to help with dinner. Instead he was to busy pounding on the door to his Cousins room.

"What do you want, Harry? Dudley asked after letting Harry into the sanctuary of his room.

Harry rushed into the middle of the room before handing Dudley his extremely wrinkled mail. In answer to Dudley he replied, "That Anna is a scary woman! I found out the answer to your question, but I don't think you're going to like it."

"Well don't keep me in suspense! I sacrificed too many brain cells to the beating that woman gave me not know the truth!", Dudley yelled in a purposefully overly-dramatic manner while moving in front of the door as if to block Harry's escape.

Harry repeated the conversation he'd had downstairs, complete with the interesting accent and physical description of the younger sister and what Anna would do to Dudley if he ever went near the young lady in question.

"You know what Harry?"

"What Dudley?"

"The pain might be worth it."

"You know what I think, Dudley?"

"What's that, Harry?"

"I think your nutters." Harry stated while looking over Dudley's shoulder at the now-opened door. Standing just outside the room was a frowning Anna holding a tray with an energy shake for Harry, and a diet one meant for Dudley.

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While Dudley was busy taking yet another shower (this time to get the protein shake out of his hair) Harry returned to his room to read and answer the letter from Hermione's parents. Sitting at his desk he opened the letter and took a sip of his rather bland drink before leaning back to read.

A few minutes later Harry realized that he had made a mistake, albeit an honest one, in writing to Hermione. She had told her parents that she was going to the Burrow to spend the summer with both Ron and Harry, so while they tend to not be nosey people, when they got a letter addressed to Hermione from Harry with a return address in Surrey they became concerned. Finally deciding to open their daughter's mail they now had a whole host of rather awkward questions to ask.

Because Ginny had already written to Harry concerning how incoming and outgoing owl post at his location was being watched by Dumbledore's guards Harry still couldn't write Hermione to ask her what lies she wanted him to tell them!

"'Why are you not at the same location as our daughter, and why do you not know where she is? Has our daughter run off with the Weasley boy? In your letter to our daughter you mentioned how Ronald Weasley was jealous of our daughter's Yule Ball date, Victor Krumb. Is our daughter dating either of these two boys? How has this evil wizard come back to attack you? We thought that this 'Lord Voldemort' was dead by your hand as a child? How did Cedric Diggory die? Why can't you contact any of your other friends? Our daughter has written to us a few letters this summer and at least once a month during the school year, and at no point has she hinted at anything that you discussed in your letter!'", Harry read this aloud while cursing his bad luck and wondering how he was going to get out of this mess with Hermione still attending Hogwarts next year.

An hour of staring at the Grangers' letter still failed to give Harry any ideas of how to respond. His ignorance of what excuse Hermione gave for not writing her family during the three months she was turned to stone by the reflected gaze of a basilisk in their third year had Harry stumped.

'Did she tell her family about the polyjuice potion accident in second year, or how we almost got killed during the fight to get to the Sorcerers' Stone in first year? What did she tell them about Prof. Lupin and Uncle Sirius? Do they know anything about the Tri-wizard Tournament? Damn it, Hermione! I need to co-ordinate with you if we're going to make it out of Voldemort's war alive!'

Disgusted, Harry tossed the letter on his desk where it landed in the puddle of condensation formed by his now lukewarm energy shake. Leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his face in his hands he heaved a sigh.

"What am I going to do! Hell, maybe that's the wrong tack. Umm, what would Sun Tzu do?"

Glancing at the book Dudley gave him Harry thought hard about just what a man almost two and a half millennium dead would have to say about his situation. Maxims of the long dead scholarly warrior began to jump to the fore of his mind as well as the anecdotal stories of those that wrote commentaries dealing with his work. Grabbing the book he set down to read and came to some startling conclusions based on the text and the current events found in Ginny's smuggled copies of 'The Daily Prophet'.

'If Fudge was considered the ruler in the manner that Sun Tzu speaks of then the Aurors and the DMLE are his generals, while Dumbledore and his other Department Heads are his civilian administrators. Because Fudge has the 'mandate of the people' he can do a lot of damage by 'hobbling' his army, giving out false information about Voldemort's return and giving out orders for 'his army' to stand down. None of his 'generals' are willing to be fired for doing the right thing and acting on the facts so then it falls to Dumbledore and I to tell people what the facts are. But we can't order the 'generals' to do their jobs because the 'sovereign' won't let them and he's undercutting both Dumbledore and myself.'

Harry studied this logical model he'd come up with to try to better understand just what the hell was going on in his life.

"But why is Dumbledore cutting me out of the loop. He's one of the few people that believed me about Voldemort's return so shouldn't he be talking to me more to see if I have anything else to say about what happened that night at least?", asked Harry aloud. If Dumbledore was intercepting and actually reading his mail then he should have read the letter to him concerning his nightmare/visions that he had about Voldemort. If so, why had he not written him back?

The answer came to him in a flash of insight. A little voice with a Far Eastern accent quietly stated, "All warfare is based on deception. It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus ensure secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order. He must be able to mystify his officers and men by false reports and appearances, and thus keep them in total ignorance."

Well, Harry had to hand it to Dumbledore. He seems to have a better idea of what to do than Fudge did. It stood to reason that if the Ministry was not willing to take on the fight against Voldemort then it would fall to Dumbledore to lead the fight. Using the 'old crowd' that he mentioned at the end of last year as his army and officers it only made sense that he was now acting like a general. The reaction of Fudge to the news that Voldemort had returned had forced Dumbledore's hand, and as a consequence of Dumbledore's words and preparation Fudge had to undermine both he and Harry to maintain his own power.

'Fudges stupidity makes a little more sense now when I think of it in these terms.'

A simple fact about the whole situation gave Harry pause, however. Just because Dumbledore was right about how he had to deal with both Voldemort and the ass-backwards Ministry of Magic did not give him leave to keep ignorant Hermione's parents of the dangers she was in every year at school any more than it did the old man the right to block his Owl Post! If he wanted to command an army to fight Voldemort then he should damn well let his soldiers know what they were getting into before they sign up for it! Hey, maybe his soldiers' aught to at least volunteer first, before he starts including them in his plans.

Sun Tzu might agree that sharing every detail of the battle plan with those under your command was just asking for a spy in the ranks to cause an army's destruction, but so to a total lack of info lead to a mutiny, and a complete lack of direction to defeat!

The little Sun Tzu in Harry's mind was also berating him at the moment for failing to create a dependable network of spies loyal to himself and not Dumbledore. Hermione was intelligent and would tell him what was going on but tended to want to follow the dictates of those in authority, while Ron was generally content to follow her lead on anything that didn't have to do with Quidditch or studying. Remus and Sirius both loved him as he was the son of Lilly and James Potter, and Sirius was sworn as his Godfather, but both were apparently part of the old crowd and Harry supposed that they owed their fealty more to Dumbledore than himself.

Ginny was the only person who was loyal enough to him to be willing to work as his agent in what Harry was coming to term as 'Dumbledore's Camp'. However, she herself was not a part of the Dumbledore's group directly but rather had been dragged along by one or both of her parents, nor did he have a way to contact her.

Harry stood up and began pacing about his room. His train of thought had derailed failing to give him an idea of what to do, and like the opening of the Grangers' letter raised more questions than it answered.

"This isn't working.", Harry moaned aloud. "How the hell am I supposed to come up with something to answer them? I mean, I can't tell Hermione's parents the truth…"

Harry ceased pacing.

Looking over at his Space Marine models Harry knew exactly what these men of a fictitious future would do in a similar situation. It just so happened it dovetailed with what Sun Tzu, and all those good generals that were mentioned in those commentaries would do.

"That's it! I don't have to lie! I can be honest with them! If Dumbledore doesn't like it, then the Hell with him! If I do this right I won't have to loose Hermione as a friend because I must convince her parents that the safest place to be in spite of the danger is still Hogwarts. I just have to tell them the truth about how much more danger they all will be in if she gets pulled out of school, and then can't defend them or herself from the Death Eaters!"

Harry realized that he shouldn't be happy about this as the truth about all the students' of Hogwarts vulnerabilities to Death Eaters, especially for the muggle born was terrible to bear. Still, wizards were right when they said Hogwarts was the most secure place in Great Britain. It wasn't so much that a person with ill intent couldn't enter it's wards so much that it was rather difficult for such a person to do so, much less get back out alive and free after the fact. Considering that most homes of wizards were apparently easy for Death Eaters to break into, and even Gringotts' Bank goblin defenses were not an insurmountable obstacle, hiding among the herd of students at Hogwarts while training to defend oneself in the same manner as a commander model leading (or rather 'hiding in') an infantry squad in Warhammer 40,000 was the best way to survive.

Unless of course the Death Eaters learned the value of field artillery in which case bunching up into a tight herd for safety resulted in everybody getting slaughtered when the shells started to fall.

About that time someone knocked on the door. Crossing the room Harry opened the door to see a newly showered Dudley standing there waiting to ask something. Grabbing his arm Harry dragged him into his room.

"I need to pick your brain!"

"Will it involve thinking?", Dudley asked.

"Yes!", Harry replied.

"Well I'm on vacation, so if you'll excuse me…".

Thinking fast Harry decided to tell him that it involved applying Sun Tzu and Warhammer 40,000 knowledge to a real-life situation. He went on to explain what he needed to do with the letter.

"That's great, Harry. But why are you telling me this?", Dudley asked.

"Because I need to run this by another muggle so that I answer any of their questions before they have chance to ask them. I need to make a convincing argument for why I think Hermione needs to stay at Hogwarts when there are several hundred pureblood witches and wizards that want people like her dead just because her parents are muggles. So I'll write a paragraph and then read it back to you. If you don't get something I want you to tell me and I'll try to explain it to you. If you get it then two adult dentists shouldn't have too much trouble."

"Okay…", Dudley agreed reluctantly while wondering how he got himself roped into this.

Grabbing a roll of parchment and a quill Harry sat back down and prepared to write. "I'll start by telling them about getting my Hogwarts letter before my first year, and work my way up until the end of last year."

"Oh, joy.", Dudley said with a sigh as he tried to find a comfortable spot on the floor.

"What, you have something better to do?", Harry asked.

"Besides clean what's left of that shake off the floor? No."

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Five hours later found the two teens finishing up on Harry's letter. While Harry wrote Dudley had entertained himself by looking over the various army lists he had assigned Harry to compile that week in preparation of the coming campaign they would be participating in with Dudley's friends.

At times Dudley's questions had been both a hindrance and a help. For instance, Dudley had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that the self-propelled artillery piece used by the Imperial Guard army called a Basilisk was named after a not-so-mythical giant snake whose gaze could kill.

"The name fits, though. If that artillery piece can see something, the chances are that whatever it is will be blown away by the next game turn.", Dudley opined.

Harry decided to continue in this thread, asking "So if I mentioned a Chimera?"

"You wouldn't be talking about an Imperial Guard APC with a ten-man transport capacity.", said Dudley

"Right."

"Um, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"How did you beat the Basilisk?"

"I killed it. With a sword."

"Bloody Hell!", said Dudley, at that moment sound very much like another friend of Harry's. The phrase became a steady litany every time Harry got to describing the culmination of his school year adventures From the tale of Ginny and the Basilisk, to saving his innocent Godfather Sirius, and finally the most impressive and depressing tale of his showdown with a reborn Voldemort Dudley made it clear that he was suitable impressed.

"I'm not sure which is worse, the First Task with the Dragon or Voldemort's rebirth.", Dudley mused.

"In the first task I was afraid for myself. I actually preferred that to the way I felt when we had the second task. Being afraid for others is a much worse feeling. The only thing that made it better was that I didn't know what was really going to happen beforehand, otherwise I'd have been a basket case."

"Going into the third task I was almost confident that things were going to be okay, and as far as the task itself went I was correct. Everything that happened after Cedric and I touched the Portkey was a nightmare, and I wish I could say that it will never happen again. I know that I will never allow my friends to be killed again!", Harry said fiercely. Feeling the track of the tears he hadn't realized he was sheeding race down his cheeks he wiped at them in irritation before finishing with, "But I'm afraid that I probably will have to face Voldemort again."

Dudley glanced over at Harry's Space Marine figures. Standing up walked over to the end of the table they were sitting on and grabbed a squad.

"How many of these guys did you loose in the last battle with my Orks?", Dudley asked.

"All of them.", Harry replied quietly.

"And were they able to fight well?"

"No, they didn't. They didn't even get in a turn of shooting.", Harry mumbled while looking at the floor.

"Do you think you will do better next time?", Dudley asked.

"Yes. I can't do any worse than last time.", Harry grumbled, getting annoyed at this line of questioning.

"And why is that?", Dudley asked not unkindly.

"Because I'm a better player now!", Harry shouted as he got up in Dudley's face.

It was obvious that Harry had had enough, but Dudley wasn't about to let things lie. He simply stood his ground and asked Harry another question.

"And why is that?"

"Because I know what to expect!", yelled Harry again.

"Exactly!", said Dudley as he pointed a finger into Harry's chest while being carefull to cradle the models in his other hand.

"You know what to expect so you can start preparing for it. From everything you've told me Voldemort is an overconfident asshole with only three spells he likes to cast in battle, and unlike you he's not going to rush off to a library to look up new spells to kill you with. Rather than blame himself for you getting away he will blame his followers the way some gamers blame their crappy units or bad dice rolls for their losses rather than their bad tactics. He's probably going to spend the next year coming up with an elaborate way to trap you again,and worry about actually how he will take you out when he comes to it."

"You Harry," Dudley shouted while poking Harry hard in the chest, "will spend the next year looking for spells with which to turn the tables. You will protect your friends, and when the time comes you will kill Voldemort or die trying."

"But I don't want to be a murderer!"

Harry fell back into the chair and twisted around to bury his head in his crossed arms on the table. The tears were soaked up by the pages of his letter while Dudley looked at Harry in surprise.

Lips pursed in thought Dudley finally sighed before saying, "If my parents' murderer walked free I'd see to it that he made it six feet under as soon as possible."

"Then I'd just be like him", said the muffled voice from where it was buried.

"Then I guess that after Voldemort kills you Harry he'll just retire from being 'Mr. Bad Wizard'. Maybe he'll take up gardening, or maybe he'll volunteer at soup kitchen and hospitals…"

Harry perked up at this, his head popping up from it's hidey-hole to turn and look at Dudley.

"No, he won't stop until he rules the world. Both the magical and muggle world.", Harry said with certainty.

"Oh, so I guess the Ministry of Magic well catch him then, and put him and his followers in prison – even the ones who have jobs or influence with them you told me about. After all, they've done such a good job of doing this so far. They even imprison innocent men like your Godfather in the hopes that not one guilty Death Eater walks free! Right Harry?"

"No! They're led buy a bunch of crooked politicians only interested in staying in office! They care nothing for justice or the innocent that may be killed because of their incompetence!", shouted Harry.

"That's right!"

Harry jumped to his feet. Dudley quickly moved behind him to replace the models while Harry reached under his bed for the newspaper clipping Ginny had mailed him that last week.

"Look here Dudley. This man here" he pointed at the picture of Fudge, "calls Dumbledore and I mad for trying to warn him and the world that Voldemort has returned. But he and his toadies in the government and the news reporters piss themselves every time Voldemort's name is even mentioned, and even the common witch or wizard shivers when they're forced to say the name 'You-Know-Who'".

"Sounds like little children to me.", Dudley added from his spot next to the desk while smiling.

"It's worse than that. They're sheep! They believe everything they read in the papers, and cower when they see Death Eaters marching around. There were thousands of witches and wizards at the World Quidditch Cup last summer, but when a dozen drunken Death Eaters came marching through the campground torturing the muggle camp host family and casting spells willy-nilly left and right nobody tried to fight them. No of them stood their ground and fought. They all ran screaming, and waited for a handful of Aurors to show up after the Death Eaters had gotten away unpunished! They're cowards! They depend on others to defend their freedom!"

"Amen!", Dudley shouted, grinning widely now.

"They ask me to defend them and their children and then have the nerve to ridicule me! They, who have not faced what I've faced or fought what I've fought! And now, when it comes time for them to finally face it with me they stick there heads in the sand and tell me all is well!"

"Hail the Emperor!", Dudley yelled.

"They – what was that, Dudley?", Harry stopped mid-rant to ask.

Continuing to grin Dudley bent over and grabbed the Warhammer 40K rulebook from the middle of Harry's stack of GW stuff on the floor by the desk. Open the book to a certain page he handed it to Harry and pointed out a certain passage in the margins which Harry read aloud.

"You are not free whose liberty is won by the rigor of other, more honorable men. You are merely protected. Your freedom is parasitic; you suck the honorable man dry and offer nothing in return. You who have enjoyed freedom, who have done nothing to earn it, your time has come. This time you will stand alone and fight for yourselves. Now you will pay for your freedom in the currency of honest toil and human blood." Inquisitor Czevak - at the Council of Ryanti.

Dudley then slapped him on the back, saying "If it were just about revenge, then yes, you might be correct about your motives. But you see, what you are doing is necessary. Just as I will never become the worlds greatest boxer by sitting on my ass all day playing video games rather than toiling away practicing boxing, so to will the world be free of men like Voldemort only through the efforts of people like you. From the sound of things, your greatest revenge would be to stop this madman cold, and the only way you're going to do that is to kill him."

Harry took a few moments to digest this. With a sigh of acceptance Harry nodded and closed the book. Laying it back on top of his stack of GW stuff he sat back down at the desk.

"Thanks Dudley, for what you told me. I came to the same conclusion a while ago, but I just didn't think I was right. I wish I wasn't right.", Harry said.

"I'm da hand of Gork and Mork, dey sent me to rouse up da boyz to crush and kill 'cos da boyz forgot what dere 'ere for. I is Mag Uthrick Thraka. I'm da profit of da Waaagh an' whole worlds burn in my boot prints.", said Dudley as he thumped his chest with his right fist. "You juss lost the True Orky way, I hadz to set youz right!"

Harry and Dudley returned to writing the letter. Dudley questioned everything. From Accio to Zonko's. Harry found that he was going to have to write a glossary for the letter to explaining all the terms and items he was using. This slowed their progress by quite a bit until Harry decided to write the terms on another sheet and finish the glossary later.

While he found the story of Harry's life interesting at some point Dudley got bored and so started to talk like an Ork to 'liven things up' as he put it. "Ya know, that's lots of work explain' to dem hummies that if your fighten shooty or sneaky enemies you'ze gots ta get stuck in right quick!"

"What?"

Dudley sighed before repeating himself. "I said that it's a lot of work explaining to Hermione's parents that their daughter is safest staying in the middle of things. It's just like when I'm playing my Space Orks against your army or the Imperial Guard. My boyz are strong and tough, and do their best fighting hand to hand where the enemy can't concentrate their fire on them, and because of this against most players I have to get my boyz in close as fast as possible or else they get shot to pieces."

"Makes sense.", Harry agreed.

"And like I showed you in our last game, it's usually better to charge your enemy that let him charge you.", said Dudley, reminding Harry of how his own troops were swamped by the sheer amount of dice Dudley was rolling for his Orks attacks as a consequence of them getting in a charge against his Marines.

Leaving Harry to finish off his letter Dudley returned to his room to play a game on his computer. Harry had asked him if he could make a copy of the letter in case it was lost or his watchers started to look at his muggle mail, and Dudley had agreed saying, 'As much work as we put in the thing I'll be damned if we have to write it again because some uppity, dress-wearing buffoon thinks it's funny!'

After a couple hours work on the glossary Harry was introduced to the fun that could be had with a flatbed scanner. Making the electronic copies took hours, but the peace of mind it brought helped Harry relax.

Leaning back in the plush, executive style chair in his room Dudley spun it to face Harry, who was standing over the scanner before saying, "Harry. You did a good job with those army lists you wrote up."

"You mean all one hundred and fifty of them?", asked the now exhausted Harry.

"Yes. I think you made a mistake though. Most of the lists have the guys armed with wargear that you don't have glued on the actual models. The guys and I tend to stick hard and fast to the rule: WYSIWYG."

"What?", a perplexed Harry asked.

"'What You See Is What You Get'. It keeps players, especially your opponents and sometimes you yourself from forgetting exactly what you paid points to arm your characters and units with.", Dudley explained.

"Oh.", said a now depressed Harry who realized that about half of his work was done incorrectly.

"It's no problem. I forgot to tell you, so the guys will just have to lump it. In the meantime, you can start fixing the problem."

"How would I do that?", Harry asked.

Dudley reached up onto a shelf on the wall above his desk and grabbed something. Setting it on the desk Harry noticed that it was his Ork army Warboss model, with a few loose painted bit of metal sitting on the base. Before Harry could ask what he was doing Dudley removed the model's hand holding a large axe and replaced it with a hand holding a gun that was one of the parts sitting on the base.

"I don't know if you can see it in this light but I've drilled into both the hands and the arms and glued a piece of wire for attaching the hands into the slot in the arm.", Dudley explained. "I like to use the gun, or 'shoota' rather than the axe, or 'choppa', when I'm fighting against Tyranids as they're better in hand to hand than my boyz. You have to put the arms on models you want to do this with so that the wrist is elevated, otherwise the hands tend to slip off."

"That explains why all your Ork character models have one or both of their arms up rather than carrying their gear down low, but how did you drill them out? Those models are metal, and it would take forever to use the hand drill I've got to do it.", said Harry.

"I tried it that way at first then I found out about these…", Dudley said while reaching under his bed for a box. Opening it up, he pulled out a Dremel toll and several drills, cutting disks, and sanding parts. After a short lesson in proper safety and drill use Dudley handed him the box and his letter and told him to go have fun.

"What are you going to do, Dudley?"

"I'm going to bed, Harry. You told me that we have to get up at our usual time to go running and stuff, and that means I have to go to bed soon or else you're going to have to carry me out of bed and down the stairs in the morning."

Seeing as Dudley was right Harry decided to go to his room and go to bed. He put the box on the desk and put the letter on in the already addressed envelope before sealing it.

A half-hour later he was asleep.

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Harry's eyes opened around four in the morning as the result of a 'normal' nightmare. He figured that it was spawned as a result of his anxiety concerning Hermione's parents pulling her out of Hogwarts. The strange dream featured an angry Hermione being dragged out the gates of their school by her parents as he chased after her, all while the disembodied head of Sun Tzu followed behind him saying, 'Your buggered!' in accented English.

As he was wide awake Harry decided to begin his day early. Knowing he needed to be quiet so as to not disturb the Dursley he gently sat up and climbed out of bed.

All thoughts of stealth fled his mind upon seeing though the dim light what was happening on his desk.

"Hold it steady Brother-Sergeant. If we're going to do this hand-swap right the two holes must align perfectly."

On the desk Harry's Techmarine model held above his head with all the arms on his servo-harness Dudley's Dremel Tool while standing over a now handless Veteran Sergeant model. A white-armored Apothecary Marine looked on the proceedings while holding an unpainted but pre-drilled power fist that was going to be attached to the Sergeant as soon as the drilling was completed.

All across the desk Harry could see many painted models carrying unpainted wargear that had just been recently added. Some appeared to be showing off their newest pieces of 'bling' while others were less than enthusiastic to the point that they were taking it up with their superior officer models.

"Brother-Librarian Potter! Sir, my fellow squad leaders have gotten power weapons and plasma pistols as upgrades, but all my gear has actually been downgraded to just a bolter! I know it is our standard weapon for raining righteous retribution upon our enemies but why are you taking my good gear away?"

The blue Terminator armored model turned away from a squad he was inspecting to face the other model. "It's nothing to worry about, Brother-Sergeant Joel. Where just giving our commander some options. You might never be asked to give up your other gear, we just want to be prepared. For questioning the wisdom of these orders, however, you shall report to the Brother-Chaplain for your requisite chastisement and penance."

"Yes, sir!", shouted the Sergeant as he hurried back to his squad before he could be assigned any further punishment.

Unable to believe what he was seeing a wild-eyed Harry hurried from the room stopping only to grab his workout outfit before heading to the bathroom.

'It's just the early hour. I didn't get enough sleep last night, and I just need to go on a run to clear my mind. That's all, nothing else.' Harry tried to reassure himself.

Hurrying over to Dudley's room Harry forced himself to gently knock on the door rather than bash it with his had as he was want to do. Eventually giving up on the subtle approach after a minute of being ignored by a Dudley that was pretending to sleep and was snoring loader so as to drown out the noise, Harry open the door and began dragging the covers off.

"Get up big D!"

"Wawawahat!", Dudley plaintively whined semi-coherently.

"Get off your ass! We gotta move. Get up, the daylight's wasting."

"Not in this time zone. It may be morning in Moscow but it's not light here yet.", a now awake Dudley argued.

But Harry would not be deterred. His only thought was to get out of the house, and Dudley was getting in the way of that objective. Finally, after five minutes of pocking and prodding a bleary-eyed Dudley into his workout clothes the two stumbled down the stair and out the door to do their warm-ups on the dew-covered grass.

"Nothing like an English morning to make you appreciate the warmth of a musty old gym.", Dudley groused.

"We have to make sure we keep warm and don't over-do it, or we'll pull a muscle. I refuse to carry you home Dudley so watch yourself or I'll leave you for the wild dogs.", Harry joked.

"Yeah, I'd make a fine meal for all those packs of feral French poodles we've got around here.", Dudley returned with a smile.

Hopping up the boys began running down the street into the blinding light of rising sun.

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"I am really freaking bored with this", Dudley complained.

Harry and Dudley had been alternating between short sprints, push-ups, sit-ups, and long jogs of several kilometers for hours and it was already ten in the morning. Once again on a long jog the boys were beside each other with Harry setting the pace slightly faster than Dudley would have preferred.

"Two more hours and we can quit for lunch, Dudley. Think of that half-meter long sandwich roll sitting in the ice-box with your name on it.", Harry spoke between puffs.

"Can't we stop now?", Dudley whined.

"Do you want to go jogging after eating a foot-long sandwich?", asked Harry.

"No. That just means I'll have to hurl up a…"

"Never mind, don't answer that!", shouted Harry.

"Damn, I'm not hungry now.", said Dudley.

"Neither am I, you inconsiderate jerk!", said Harry.

Dudley answered with a smile.

"Speaking of inconsiderate jerks, I've got a question for you, Dudley."

"What is it Harry."

"Why aren't you treating my like an inconsiderate jerk now?", asked Harry.

"Would you believe me when I said that it's because you're a wargamer, and we're such a rare and different breed that we'll tolerate even the weirdest people so long as they're a good opponent?", Dudley asked in return.

"If I didn't know that you had a small collection weird but wonderful wargamers already to play with I might, but right now that sounds like an excuse to me.", Harry replied.

"Weird… wonderful… wargammers… that's a …simile?", asked a now huffing Dudley distractedly.

"No, it's an alliteration, and I got it from those twins that flooed through your dad's fireplace with their dad to come get me and that gave you those magical candies all those years ago.", Harry explained.

"Oh yeah! I remember those assholes.", Dudley said lightly.

Harry got the feeling Dudley was trying to change the subject and in Hermione-like fashion refused to be deterred from his line of questioning. Clearing his throat at Dudley's insult to his friends Harry continued with "That's beside the point. Why are you being nice. Most summers you can't share a civil word with me, but this summer has been totally different since the fight."

"Maybe I respect you for not taking my crap this year and fighting back…", Dudley hedged through puffs of breath.

"Bullshit. The old Dudley I know never respected me before when we fought, and if I'd somehow managed to beat you then you would have just complained to your parents about it."

As the pair came up to the entrance to the local park that Dudley had spent so many hours bullying the neighborhood children in Dudley came to a halt and turned to a still running Harry.

"If you want it to know all about it I'm got to be able to breath. Can we slow down some?", Dudley asked.

"If we jog slow until lunch we should be okay. We'll just need to stop to do push-ups every other block or so", Harry said while jogging in place.

Starting up again Dudley kept pace with Harry as they jogged beneath the park trees that lined the street. Looking up at the sky and cursing the sun that was now starting to make things uncomfortably warm for him Dudley began to speak.

"You know your friends Hermione and Ron?", started Dudley.

"What about them?"

"I… had a couple friends like them at Smeltings."

"I thought Smeltings was an all-boys school.", Harry asked.

"Well, yeah. But there is a all-girls school next to it. They share teachers and administrators, and we only have mixed classes when there is just a few students at each school that want to take that same class.", Dudley explained.

"You wanted to take a class?", Harry asked.

"Well, I had to take so many classes each term, and I tried to take easy ones that don't sound too boring. Anyway, there was this nerd named Mark, who looked kind of like you, Harry. I met him our first year there. I used to beat him up if he didn't let me and the guys from the neighborhood that went there too copy his homework, but we all started failing test because we couldn't copy off him then. Then he offered to tutor us if we protected him form everyone else that wanted to do the same thing."

"Anyway, we all thought he was a genius. Turns out he was working together with a friend of his on the 'other side of the fence'. He made friends with a girl named Alice who was in our grade at the girls-school, and because the girls were a little ahead of us boys in their classes she would tutor him in the things we would be taught that week in class as her way of studying for her tests on that same stuff."

Harry pondered Dudley's words before saying, "That makes since, really. You have to understand something before you can teach it to someone else so it's a good way to review for a test."

"And since she had just learned the stuff she didn't try to explain it to us like a teacher would. She used word even I could understand instead of all those technical terms used in the book that only the professors knew the meaning of.", Dudley continued.

"Sounds kind of like my friend Hermione. She always wants to review before our tests and often she has to re-teach Ron and I what we already covered. If doing so means she learns the work better and so she does better on the test I can see why she always wants to study with us.", said Harry.

Dudley took a deep breath before continuing, "Well, I ended up studying with them instead of hanging out with the other guys so much because I wanted more free time in the evenings, and learning with Mark and Alice saved a lot of time. I mean, yeah, I felt like I was the dumbest person in the room, but I got the work done quicker and my grades got a lot better from being around them so much. I even got to enjoy being around them, and it was Mark who showed me Warhammer 40K and his Space Orks. We'd talk like Orks around Alice. It used to drive her nuts, and she said it made her feel dumber having heard it."

"Well, it is one hell of a nasty accent", Harry said.

"It turns out that Mark came to regard me like a Boss Ork, and all the other guys as Nobz. We might have been big and dumb, but we were strong and tough, whereas he was smart but weak: kind of like a little gretchin. Anyway, we'd fight to protect him, and he'd keep thing running smoothly for the rest of us. After an hour of using small, simple terms explaining it to my old friends it turned out they liked the idea of it and started going around acting like Orks. Nobody else noticed a difference, really, other than the fact that we all started sounding even dumber when we talked and tended to shout 'Waaggghhhh!" at random times just for the hell of it."

"Judging by the way your talking in the past tense I'd say something bad happened.", Harry stated plainly.

Coming to a corner with a stoplight the pair stopped talking to do some pushups. After squeezing out twenty-five of them they pushed up and started running in place. While waiting for the light to turn Dudley restarted his story by saying,"Yeah, it all fell apart eventually."

"What happened?"

"We got a new kid in class.", Dudley said simply. "He was a little smaller than me, and not as strong. His dad had a little more money than mine does, and he had a whole lot less brains than mine I can tell you. And, the bastard kid was a lot meaner."

They continued to jog for a while in silence. Finally it was Harry that stopped causing Dudley to do the same. Drawing in a deep breath Harry asked Dudley, "And what happened then?"

"I spent more time with Mark and Alice, and he spent more time with my nobz. I didn't go smoke with the guys in the bathroom as much, and he started giving them kilos of white powder."

Harry was confused by this saying, "I don't know what…"

"Do you know how utterly futile it is trying to explain math to someone high on cocaine? The sky isn't the same color in their world as ours. My boyz were corrupted, and I didn't even notice it until it was too late."

"When I was the boss if we bullied someone it was for a reason. Maybe it was stupid, but we didn't permanently hurt people…much. Usually it was just childish things like stuffing a nerd in a dumpster or stealing his candy. What we didn't go around doing was seeing if we could break every bone is that nerds arm before he passed out from the pain."

"I got called in because it was my boyz that did that, and the only reason I didn't get in trouble for it was because I was with Mark and Alice in our elective class at the time. We were actually taking a class for the first time together and for once I was excited to go to a class."

"My boyz got in trouble though, and because I taught them all to keep their mouths shut whenever we used to get into trouble they did the same this time and were all put on probation while the nerd was sent home. It was that rich bastard who actually came up with the plan and did it, though, but the school wouldn't expel him because his parents were giving the school so much money."

"He'd been expelled from a lot of other schools and Smeltings was the end of the line for him. He was too smart for a public trade school though, and his dad's money made other schools at least give him a try before kicking him out without a refund."

"He sounds kind of like a Chaos Marine, Dudley.", Harry opined. He began walking again and Dudley began to follow.

"More than you know.", said Dudley. "He never challenged me straight up, just corrupted my boyz when I wasn't looking. He waited until April to really do anything else, though. I got sent home with chicken pox and because of the timing I was only going to return to take my end of year exams. While I was gone, though, he came up with this stupid plan to screw everything up for me."

"After getting the boyz high one night they all went out and… Well, I guess he was just jealous of the three of us, Mark, Alice and I. He never liked Mark or Alice because they were smart and he wasn't. They had no money, but their parents loved them and paid attention to them. Their's showed up on parents day while his own didn't. I guess he was kind of just, I don't know, ignored? I guess his parent ignored him. Maybe that's what made him do it. I don't know. Best I can figure, he wanted me gone so he'd be the Boss, and he hated Mark and Alice."

"The police said that one night in April he got the boyz drunk and high, and then they went out and ambushed my friends after class. Mark and Alice were starting to 'walk the fence' as we at the schools used to describe dating, and since there isn't much to do at either school they had gone for a walk in the gardens around the girls side classes which is breaking the rules but pretty normal."

Looking over at Dudley, Harry noticed the tears in his eyes as Dudley began to pick up the pace of his jogging. He didn't stop for breath though, as if the jogging was steadying him as he continued the story with, "Mark fought hard. He didn't retreat, and so they beat him to death. Alice tried to run, but they got her. They did some things to her, and then beat her until they thought she was dead too, and then tried to hide the bodies in a dumpster on the boys school side.

"The next day one of the younger years found them when some other bully tried stuffing him in the same dumpster. Being stored in a place like that, Mark looked pretty bad and his family had to have a closed casket funeral for him."

"Merlins beard!", Harry exclaimed.

"Alice is in a coma and they don't expect her to wake up. If she does then the doctors are sure that the blows she took to her head would cause her to have massive brain damage!", Dudley stated while practically shouting.

"Damn.", Harry muttered.

Taking notice of their surroundings Harry realized that they where practically sprinting, and that they'd blown through several intersection without stopping to even see if it was safe to cross. Looking at Dudley it seemed to Harry like he was running as faster than he ever had before, as if he could somehow outrace the memories that were haunting him.

A few minutes later and the guys were running up Privet Drive back to the Dursley's. Finally coming to a stop in the front yard Harry and Dudley flopped down on the ground and started stretching out their tired muscles.

"What happened to your other friends?", Harry asked when he finally caught his breath.

"Prison. Where else would they be. They all kept mum when the prosecutor tried to cut them a deal. The only one that took it was that rat bastard so he was sentenced as a juvenile. He'll be out in a few years, but all my other old friends were tried as adults. They'll be middle-aged men before they get out, and I don't really blame the government for wanting it that way."

Harry took a moment to digest this before stating, "I take it you won't be going back to Smeltings next year."

"No. It seems all my friends are dead, in a coma, or in prison." Dudley heaved a sigh before continuing. "I don't want to go back there, and after everything came out the school realized who used to be the 'big, bad, mean bully' around there and asked my parents not to send me back. I don't think it matters much, though. All the parents are pissed, and it looks like the boys school might close. The parents of the girls school a scared too, and barristers are starting to issue lawsuits. I might get named in a couple, but hopefully if I don't go back that won't happen."

"What will you do next fall?", Harry asked.

Dudley sat back, his stretching complete and began to pick at the well manicured lawn. "I'll go to a local school. All the guys that I knew around here that didn't go to Smeltings but rather the local school don't like me now. At the very least they think I'm bad luck while others have been talking to the guys that went to prison. They're all mad that I'm not there with them for some damn reason, and they think I betrayed them somehow because I testified at their trials. All I was asked was if I knew that they were doing drugs, and I said that 'I thought they were, because it was getting hard to tutor them, and they weren't asking to be tutored much, and they were starting to fail their classes, and they weren't hanging out with Mark and Alice and I anymore'. So I'm gonna be on my own here for a while."

"A nob without a Waaauuuugh?", Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood that was quickly darkening again. He noticed that Dudley was starting to pull up handfuls of grass by the roots in agitation.

"I like it that way, though. I'm tired of being responsible for the stupidity of others. People ask me to teach them, and I teach them all the wrong things. People ask me to protect them, and I fail because I am not watchful. People ask me to lead them, and I lead them to hell!

Dudley paused for a breath while trying to regain control of his emotions. "The only thing that I want to lead anywhere are my miniatures, because if I screw-up nobody dies and at least I've learned something from the experience."

At this Harry frowned. Where was the confident guy he had been talking to the night before, the guy that told him not to give up.

"So what was all that crap about you spewed to me last night, hmmm? I told you what was bothering me, how I wanted to just curl-up and die and you told me that it was the wrong thing to do! You said I had to hang tough, and that I shouldn't give in, but that's exactly what your doing now. The new school year hasn't even started yet and your already beaten? What the hell is wrong with you!"

Dudley at first quailed in the face of Harry anger, but quickly rallied to his own defense.

"Harry, I screwed up several different ways, and in the end while I didn't actually kill anyone myself I contributed to my friends hurting each other. I should have taught Mark to defend himself, and I should have at least tried to be less of a bully my whole damn life. I should have held myself and my big stupid friends to a higher standard than the morality of an Ork, and I should have put that asshole – who will remain nameless – in his place on day one."

"There are too many 'if only's' in my life right now, Harry, and I'm just your age. Too many regrets so while I know I will never be perfect I'm spending my time trying to see to it that I never repeat the same mistakes again. I'm trying to be less of an asshole to everyone I met, though I failed when you got home this summer for a while."

"You see, Harry, Mark used to remind me of you when we were little, and it kind of annoyed me that I had left a home where the little scrawny kid who I could beat one-handed physically could run rings around me in class, only to go away to some school to get treated to the same damn thing. But then I made friends with him, so when I came home in the summers I started to try to keep away from you because I could see that the way I treated you then was not how I treated Mark."

"After Mark was killed you came home and, well, you look a lot like him. It was like having his ghost around haunting me. Your screams when you had a nightmare kept me up at night and I wondered if that was what the last moments of Mark and maybe Alice's lives sounded like. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and that's when we boxed for the first time."

"You enjoyed the fight, didn't you?", Harry asked.

"Yeah. After you told me why you were having problems with Cedric on your conscience I felt we had a connection, but by then you looked like you needed a good scrap and weren't going stop till you had a one. I figured that I'd failed to teach Mark to protect himself so as part of the whole making myself a better person thing I figured I'd better teach you to fight."

"Which was kind of enjoyable before your dad put a stop to it.", Harry said while laughing.

"Yeah, it was. Dad doesn't know what to make of me anymore though. He and mom worry about me for a lot of reasons. Me staying inside and playing with miniatures and not hanging out with the guys around here has them really confused. They can't understand why I don't go around with my old friends anymore and why I spend anytime at all with you. They try to pay more attention to me because they think not doing so was what made that other boy grow up to be such a reprobate, but it just feels like they're smothering me."

They're your parents, Dudley. If you tell them what you told me I think they'll understand.", Harry said gently.

"I've tried Harry. They just don't get it. To them I was always perfect and the way I treated you in the past was normal and well deserved", said Dudley while looking right at Harry. Seeing Harry's face tighten up in anger he quickly went on.

"Because of this they feel that they have succeeded in every thing they have put their minds to and therefore have never failed at anything with the exception of beating your 'freaky' ways out of you. Except they don't really care for you, which means they don't care about this failure. Their will is undefeated with things like our coach beating the crap out of dad for the way he treated you simply 'the actions of a stupid, uppity, and ignorant freak'. They have never made a judgment call that was wrong – in their eyes, nor have they seen a core belief that they have based their lives and actions on proven wrong to them to a point where they accepted the lesson. At this rate I almost hope it never happens because the shock would kill them."

"I see," said a slightly irritated Harry before asking, "so what do we do now?".

"Well, we go inside and eat lunch."

RTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTSRTS

Even after the young men had their showers and got cleaned up Dudley never really got back his appetite after talking to Harry. Taking the sandwich from the kitchen up to Harry's room he split it with him and sat down to watch Harry finish writing the glossary.

"So what are you going to call that glossary, Harry? It's practically a book, an and about three times as long as your letter.", Dudley observed.

"I think I'll call it Codex: Hogwarts. It's about the right size, don't you think?", Harry asked.

"Well, looks more like the 'Wargear' section of a codex with all the definitions and such, though it's so long it would be like taking the wargear section out of every 40K codex and putting them together."

"You should probably drink your shake too, Harry. Coach will be mad if you show up Monday skinnier than he last saw you on Friday.", Dudley said.

"Na, I'll just tell him I burned calories running your ass off this weekend. He'll understand. He might send me to Ms. Edenton to make sure I'm healthy, though.", said Harry with a smirk.

Dudley smiled before replying, "You are a wise man, Mr. Potter. A toast – Harry. 'To kung-fu women! May they kick our butts only to later kiss our hurts!'"

At this Harry clinked his shake cup with Dudley's water glass, a difficult thing to do considering both their containers were made of plastic.

After chugging down a gulp of each of their not-so-chosen drinks Harry and Dudley sat back and rested their sore muscles from the morning workout. Looking at his work Harry grabbed his quill and with a minutes work finished the sentence he was working on. Studying his sheet he realized that his work was complete with every term he used in his main letter defined for Hermione's parents.

"Dudley I'm done. Mind if we use your scanner again?"

"That's fine Harry. You want to play some Warhammer 40K after than?", Dudley asked.

"Sounds like a plan. I was going to do some homework, but my hand is pretty tired from all this writing. I'd much rather take a break and do something else.", Harry replied.

Standing up to leave the room both of them were knock back into their seats by a wave a heat. The heat came from a ball of fire that suddenly appeared in the room, which quickly morphed into the form of Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes.

Fawkes called out with clear tones a song which to Harry sounded very much like the phoenix wanted to be noticed and that it was on a mission.

As Harry and Dudley sat their a little dumbfounded Fawkes extended a claw which held a letter rolled up in it. Reaching forward to grasp the message Harry asked, "Are you going to –"

As soon as the message was delivered Fawkes flamed out, a gentle cry and another wave of heat being the only warning to the two room occupants.

"- wait for a …reply?", Harry finished lamely.

"What the bloody hell was that!", demanded an astonished Dudley.

"That was a phoenix. Not just any, though. That was Fawkes. Dumbledore's phoenix."

"The one that helped you fight the basilisk?"

"Yep."

"Looked like it was in a hurry.", noted Dudley.

"Indeed.", was Harry's only reply. Unrolling the parchment Harry began to read. Harry hope that it was a letter would let him know that he would be going to see his friends soon or at least be able to write to them. Hell, if it said something about what Dumbledore and Hermione were telling her parents Harry would be happy.

_Dear Harry,_

_ Iapologize for not writing back to you sooner. I am afraid that my business has taken me far and wide and used up much of my time. However, I am not so busy as to not be disturbed by what you have seen in your dreams. I therefore ask that you continue writing me concerning them as lives could be at stake and every detail you can give would be much appreciated._

_ Enjoy your summer,_

_ Dumbledore_

Harry re-read the extremely short letter becoming more angry with every word. Dumbledore had failed to tell Harry when he would be going to the Weasley's. He had not told Harry about how his mail was being collected by him and his 'old crowd' and kept away from his friends, nor that he warned them not to try to contact Harry until he wrote them first! He even failed to mention that they were both being vilified in the news, nor did he offer a plan for combating Fudge and his cronies.

Harry stood up and handed the letter to Dudley before beginning to pace the room.

"Great man, this Dumbledore. He doesn't lie to you about these things you want to know, he just omits the details or ignores them.", Dudley observed after reading the letter. "Mind telling me about these dreams that Dumbledore is talking about?"

Halting his pacing and taking a deep breath Harry recounted all the details he could remember of both dreams that he had been having. Dudley looked horrified at the description of Harry's nightmare which always took place on the ground of the Riddle family mansion, though he didn't go on to describe the other to variations of the dream he had had. He didn't want Dudley to think he was completely off his rocker, what with his own Space Marine miniatures rushing to his aid and whatnot.

"What do you think Dumbledore is doing to fight Voldemort?", Dudley finally asked him.

"I think he's gathering intelligence.", said Harry.

"And doing what with it?", Dudley asked.

"Um, he's probably just… well that is he might be…"

"Sitting on it until it becomes old and unusable, maybe? You gave him and Fudge a list of Death Eaters that Voldemort addressed by name. Do you think Fudge has arrested any of them?"

"No.", said Harry.

"Has Fudge fired any of the ones actually working in the Ministry?"

"Not that I've read.", said Harry.

"And, have any of those Death Eaters names appeared in the obituaries section of that rag of a newspaper you read?"

"Not that I've seen." Dudley paused a moment to let this sink into Harry's mind before continuing. "No arrests, no firings, and no mysterious deaths which may or may not have been assassinations made to look like accidents. What does that tell you, Harry?"

"Dumbledore is on the defensive?", Harry asked.

"Worse than that. He's giving Voldemort the initiative. He's waiting for Voldemort to threaten whatever it that his group intends to defend, and pretty much giving up on defending everything else.", Dudley pointed out.

"He can't do anything else though. He'd be breaking the law if he attacked the Death Eaters.", said Harry. He wasn't sure why he was defending Dumbledore though.

"I'm sure that Voldemort and his supporters really care what the Ministry thinks is legal or not. When Voldemort does attack his active followers will disappear. Then Dumbledore's supporters are going to be the ones being assassinated with their deaths being blamed as accidents by a Ministry filled with Voldemort own picked men. Eventually, it will be the good guys like you that will be the outlaws, and then you will be in the position that Voldemort is in now. Only with little chance of clawing your way back into control of the situation."

"How do you know this?", asked Harry, looking at Dudley like he was suddenly as batty as his Divination professor.

"Elementary, my dear Watson!", Dudley replied. When he saw that Harry hadn't gotten the joke he stood up saying, "You've got five minutes to pick an army and get to my room. Were playing 1,500 points, and it's a Seize and Control Mission, Alpha level rules.

"You didn't answer my question! Why do you think that things will go the way you say?", Harry asked impatiently.

Dudley made it to the open doorway before turning back around and saying, "Somebody's gotta teach you tak-tiks and strajity, and I'm da Ork dat's gonna do it, hummie!"

Soundtrack Theme #17  
Artist: Jeremy Soule  
Title: 02 - Fallen City  
Album: Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War Soundtrack


End file.
